rZ^ 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY, 



A COMEDY 



m FIVE ACTS. 



BY 



JAMES McCAKROLL. 



NEW YORK: 
JOHN F. TROW & SON, 

PRINTERS AND BOOKBINDERS, 
209 East TwelptjJh^tb^'— 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY, 



A COMEDY 



ra FIVE ACTS. 



JAMES MoCAEROLL. 



NEW YORK: 

JOHN F. TEOW & SON, 
PRINTERS AND BOOKBINDERS, 

209 East Twelfth Street. 
1874. 



-/ OF Co' -^ 
5 1874 J^j 



^t^"^^ 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, 

By JAMES McCAEROLL, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at "Washington. 



CHAEACTERS. 



Sir Reginald Howard, heir to Gray Cliff Manor. 

Mr. Henry Mortimer, a country gentleman in reduced circumstances, 

Mr. Stanhope Travers, tutor at the Grange. 

Mr. Eward Lester, sole executor and manager of the Gray Cliff 

Estates. 
Doctor Harley, physician and old family friend of the Howards. 
Old Capon, landlord of the White Hart Inn. 
Mike, a confidential Irish servant and man-of -all-work at the White 

Hart. 
Tony Lightfoot, valet to Sir Reginald. 
Dick Whiting, servant to the Mortimers. 
Alice, daughter and only chUd of Mortimer. 
Letitia, a London acquaintance of Sir Reginald. 
Gypsy Meg, a wanderer. 
Susan, maid to AUce. 

Tenantry. 

Villagers and Attendants. 

Officers of Justice. 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — The White Hart, a country inn near London. Mike, 'polish- 
ing a pewter tankard at the door. Capon and Dick Whiting seated 
in the open air at a table dose hy, each in the act of finishing a mug 
of ale. 

Dick. {Laying down his empty flagon. ) I tell ee what, Master Capon, 
that there ale is as good as ever was brewed in Kent ; and I only wish 
as that young- gen'leman as teaches at the Grange yonder could be made 
to taste a little on't now and then, as it would bring the color to his 
cheek a bit. 

Capon. {Placing his empty pot on the table also.) True, lad, it is good 
ale ; but when did you ever taste anything else at the White Hart, 
where I have lived, man and boy, upward of sixty year, and that I have 
kept for full forty ? And as for Mr. Travers you speak on, I will say 
he's a proper gen'leman, and a bravish one, too ; for I seed'n myself leap 
over the wall out of the wood, when Brown Bess was a runnin' away 
with Miss Alice, and whip the sweet creetur out of the saddle, as if she 
was only a baby, instead of a blessed angel of twenty, as she is. 

Mike. Divil resaive the word of lie in that, Dick ; for I was down there 
myself jest as she came out of a faint in his arms. And let me tell you, 
dear, that bright as that pot is {Jioldirig it out admiringly).^ it's only a 
blacky-moor to the blaze of her eyes when she looked up in his face and 
began to thank him. 

Dick. I know some un as would get his back up at that, Mike, if he 
heerd on't. 

Mike. {Contemptuously.) Sir Riginald ! Is it that miserable crayt- 
shure you mane, that, wid all his airs, looks like a hap'orth of soap 
afther a hard day's washin' ? Be me sowkins, I hope she'll never throw 
herself away on him, anyway ! 

Capon. Yes, Mike, that's all very well ; but you know he has got the 
Hermitage, and every acre belongin' to it, into his clutches in some way 
or other ! 



6 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

Dick, Yes, Master Capon, that's where the shoe pinches. Only for it 
she wouldn't be long makin' short work on him ; but when the roof over 
one's head is in danger, and there's not much left in the purse, it's hard 
to work again wealth and power ; although she never gid'n any en- 
couragement, so far as I knows on, and she's my foster-sister. 

Capon. I be main sorry it goes so hard at the Hermitage, Dick ; but 
what I fear most is, that Sir Reginald doesn't mean fair by the sweet 
lady. 

Mike. Of coorse he doesn't, and bad luck to him for that same ; 
but what can you expect from a bewty that tould Misther Lesther, not 
long ago, tiiat he'd soon be able to put him neck and crop out of the 
Manor ? 

Capon. And all because he wouldn't break a solemn vow made to Sir 
Arthur, his father, on his dyin' bed, that he'd never advance him a 
shniin' over his reg'lar allowance, until he was twenty-five, when he was 
to come into the estates accordin' to the will ; and that he himself 
would, married or single, live at the Manor and manage all the property 
just as if it was his own, until the time had run out. 

Dick. Ay, sure, and well he managed it, too ; for it has near doubled 
in vallee under him ; although he had often to threaten that he'd put 
this precious customer out of doors, and not let him enter the Manor 
again until his twenty-fifth birth-day ; which he could do, accordin' to 
some papers as Sir Arthur signed. 

Mike. Begorra, I wish it was him that died in France long ago, m- 
stead of Misthress Mansfield's little son, that you were spakin' of yesther- 
day, Misther Capon. 

Capon. Yes, Mike, Lady Howard, arter the death of Sir Arthur, took 
this widow to her heart, and when she herself was a dyin', gid her the 
charge of this Sir Reginald, who was about the age of her own little un, 
and that she was to bring up accordin' to his rank, so far as his allow- 
ance went. 

Dick. And a nice bringin' up she gid'n, although she and Sarah 
Waters had only him to take care on ; for little Fred, as I heerd they 
called'n, died a month arter he left England. 

Mike. Of coorse ! It's always the bad ones that's left to comfort us. 

Capon. Sartin sure, Mike, I've seed it often. They stayed away un- 
til he was ten years old, and then brought'n back to torment us, al- 
though Sir Arthur and my Lady were as noble creeturs as ever broke 
bread. 

Dick. Didn't the widow Mansfield soon die arter her return? 

Capon. Yes. A few weeks arter ; but not afore she got Mr. Lester 
to make Sarah Waters head-housekeeper, that she has now been at the 
Manor full fifteen year, 

Mike. But what about Nancy Evans, that you and the docther was 
talkin' about the other evenin' ? 

Capon. Oh ! ay, Nancy was my Lady's foster-sister, and was a nus- 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY, 7 

sin' Sir Reginald at the time of her death. The night afore she died she 
sent for her, and arter gid'n her enough to put her above work all her 
days, made her take an oath, privately, that, if possible, she'd never 
lose sight on him till he comed into his property. 

Dick. So I've heerd. She thought, arter all, it wasn't wise to leave 
the care of her only child to one as was no relation, and wanted Nancy, 
as she knew loved'n, to be about'n till he growed up. 

Capon. Yes, bub they took'n from her a day or two arter my Lady 
was bu.ried. So when he and little Fred was tooked abroad, because 
thej' wouldn't let her go with'n, she left the Manor, and has never been 
heerd on since. 

Mike, Well, by the mortial, if they even did lave her go wid them, 
she'd have more than a fish to fry to take care of that joker, that's as 
kautankerous as a mule, and as sour as a gallon of vinegar sharpened 
down to a pint. 

Dick. That he be ; for everybody, gentle and simple, hates'n ; and 
besides, it's not long since, as the Lunnon solicitors and Mr, Lester were 
near gid'n on him a horsewhippin' for what he said about the way they 
were doin' summat regardin' the estates. 

Capon. He's a bad un, Dick, and has always keeped bad company. 

Mike. Yis ! and there's no signs of his improvin' ; for I harde, a 
night or two ago, that that Gipsy Meg, who wandhered into this place 
lately, is some sort of a divilish spy of his, and tells him everythin' that's 
said about him, however the ould witch finds it out. 

Dick. I heerd summat of that, too, Mike ; and know myself that 
she's to be found prowlin' about the wood at all hours, with that long 
gray cloak and red handkercher on her head ; but the worst on it is, 
they say she owes a grudge to Master Travers as she's goin' to pay ; and 
if she does, we all know Sir Reginald is at the bottom on it, that hates'n 
because he has begun a visitin' the Hermitage of late. 

Mike. Spake of the divil an' he'll appear ; for there's Sir Riginald 
himself, tyin' his horse up at the gate. {Pausing and looking for a moment. ) 
Yis ! here he comes, as full of ould Harry as an egg's full of mate ! 

Enter Sir Reginald, booted and spurred, with a riding wJiip in 7m hand. 
Dick and Capon aiise as he a^pproaches ; Mike resumes his polishing. 

Sir Reginald. ( Walking up to Dick, and giving him a sharp cut of the 
ichip across the shoulders. ) How, now, fellow ! What are you doing 
here this hour of the morning, instead of being at the Hermitage about 
your master's or mistress's business ? 

Dick. {Assuming a menacing attitude. ) No more of that, Sir Reginald, 
you're not my master or mistress either ! No more of that, or I'll 

Sir Reginald. {Raising the whip again.) What, sirrah ! Do you 
threaten ? Be ofE this moment, or I'll troxmce you within an inch of 
your life ! 



8 NEABLY A TRAGEDT. 

Dick. {Standing his ground witJiout flincJiing.) I'm not so sure of 
that ! Don't strike again, Sir Reginald ; for I feel myself gettin' a 
little bit queerish ; and in for a penny, in for a pound, you know ! 

Sir Reginald. (Taken a little aback ^ and turning to Capon.) Put 
this fellow off the premises, and never let him set foot on them again, 
on pain of my displeasure. Remember your lease of the White Hart 
expires in a few days, and I alone have power to renew it ! 

Capon. (Boicing.) I know. Sir Reginald; but I have a lease of a 
little bit of property that I think more on than even this dear, old spot, 
and that would expire this instant, if I was to turn my back on any 
honest lad at the biddin' of another — I mean the respect that's accorded 
to these lew gray han-s by all as knows me. I'm here to make my 
bread decently, by gentle and simple, and to maintain the character of 
a true man ; and that I'll do {extending his hand to Dick, tcho shakes it 
warmly) if there's no other roof to shelter this head but the one as now 
shines above both on us. 

Mike. {Flourishing the tankard above his head.) Hurra ! Hurreye ! 
Hvirroo ! Bad luck to the sich a speech did I ever hear since I was in 
the Four Coorts ! Oh ! I'd give the world if Miss Alice was here ! 
Wouldn't she give you as sweet a look as she gave Misther Thravers 
when she came out of that faint in his arms ! Dick, come in, avick, 
til] we dhrink his health in a private dhrop that never passed undher the 
nose of a ganger. {Exeunt Mike and Dick. 

Sir Reginald. ( With a fierce and diaboUcal leer. ) As you please. 
Master Capon. But of one thing rest assured, your days at the White 
Hart are numbered ! 

Capon. Well, Sir Reginald, that be main hard arter so many years ; 
but I suppose what must be, must ! In coorse, it will be sad enough to 
leave what I almost looked upon as my own. I'll miss the early song 
of the birds in the wood yonder, and the breath of the hawthorn blos- 
soms in the lane ; but it is better that I should lose everything than 
the self-respect as sings clearer and smells sweeter than 'em all. 

Sir Reginald. That's enough! My resolve is fixed ; but what did 
that fellow of your's mean regarding Miss Mortimer ? 

Capon. Not much. Sir Reginald. My bro-\\Ta mare runned away with 
her t'other day, and might have killed her, only the handsome 
tutor at the Grange, who happened to be readin' in the wood, leaped 
out before her, at the risk of his life, and arter throwin' the vWld beast 
completely on her haunches, whipped the sweet lady out of the saddle, 
as she fainted away in his arms. 

Sir Reginald. (Aside, scolding deeply). By heavens ! I haven't 
heard a word of this ; although I know that lackey at the Grange has 
been at the Hermitage of late. Never fear, I shall look after her nar- 
rowly, and crush her, never to rise again, if I find she dares to entertain 
even a friendly feeling for that beggar, who has to depend on Greek and 
Latin for his breakfast ! {To Capon.) Oh! yes, I remember hearing 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 9 

something of it from Miss Mortimer, but she did not seem to set such 
value on this service as you do. However, I shall speak to her again 
on the subject, and if this poor devil has been at any trouble I shall 
see that he is rewarded. In the meantime. Master Capon, you may 
prepare to bid adieu to the White Hart ! [Exit Sir Reginald. 

Capon. [Pausing on the threshold while entering the inn^ and looking 
. round after Sir Reginald. ) Thank God ! I beant worth twenty pound, 
in the world ! [Exit Capon. 



Scene II, — Library in the Hermitage. Enter Mortimer and Travers, 
conversing. They seat themselves near a window opening on the 
lawn. 

Travers. Yes, dear sir, as you were observing, there is an apparent 
lack of genius and solid attainments among large numbers of the aris- 
tocracy ; but I think you might have added, the upper classes of all 
countries. 

Mortimer, Perhaps so ; for the germs of progress and intellectual 
greatness seem to be thickly and deeply planted only in that wide, 
mellow furrow that runs between wealth and penury. 

Travers. Yes, but this does not, I think^ involve necessarily any in- 
herent barrenness of soil on the part of the two extreme classes, the rich 
and the poor, to whom you allude. 

Alice, appearing in the open window^ or glass doorway. 

Alice. Ah ! Mr. Travers, how do you do ? {Enters the room and ex- 
tends her hand.) I was on the lawn near the wood when I saw you as- 
cending the terrace. 

Travers. Had I observed you, ]\Iiss Mortimer, I should have done 
myself the pleasure of joining you. {Rising.) 

Alice, {Turning to Mq-rtim^b..) But have I interrupted you, papa ? 
You were in conversation. {Takes a chair. Travers resumes his seat.) 

Mortimer. No, my dear. Mr, Travers was merely making some re- 
marks upon the different classes of society. 

Travers. I was simply observing. Miss Mortimer, in relation to the 
upper, the middle, and the lower classes, that there is no inherent men- 
tal inferiority or superiority in any one of them beyond another. If 
the lower classes are not so advanced as the middle, it is because they 
have time to think with their bone and muscle only ; if the middle 
classes are more exalted, it is because they are able to use their brains 
and their fingers alternately, which they are constrained to do in some 



10 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

way ; and if the upper classes do not excel these latter again, it is be- 
cause they are not constrained to either think or work. 

Alice. A most original and philosophic view of the case, Mr. Travers; 
and you will, no doubt, say that, under good government, these classes, 
like the three primal colors in a pencil of white light, may be blended so 
harmoniously as to be lost in one common radiance. 

Travers. Very beautifully expressed, Miss Mortimer ; but I fear the 
millennium you have illustrated so charmingly is not close at hand. 

Mortimer. And so I fear, too, Mr. Travers. But have you met Sir 
Reginald Howard since you came among us ? 

Travers. No. I hear, however, that he is seldom at the Manor. 

Mortimer. Not often. Mr. Lester, who is lord and master there yet, 
and he have never pulled well together. But some allowance ought to 
be made in relation to the follies of the heir to such wealth, who has 
lived so long in London. 

Alice. {With earnestness.) Yes, papa; but there is a very great dif- 
ference between what may properly be termed follies, and deliberate 
acts of infamy, the offspring of innate depravity. 

Mortimer. Alice, my dear, your observations may mislead Mr. Trav- 
ers, coming, as they do, so close on my reference to Sir Reginald. 

Alice. I should be sorry to do the slightest injustice to any one, papa ! 

Mortimer. {Changing the conversation.) You lived in London, I hear, 
before you came to the Grange, Mr. Travers. Does your family reside 
there ? 

Travers. Yes, I was engaged in the city for some time ; but of my 
family, or even my birthi:)lace, I know nothing whatever. 

Mortimer. {With surprise.) Indeed! 

Alice. {With interest.) How strange ! 

Travers. Until recently I supposed I was bom on the Contment, the 
son of a very learned but poor English clergyma.n who had long resided 
abroad for the sake of his health ; but who, on the late downfall of Na- 
poleon, returned to this country, where he died soon after, leaving me, 
as my only heritage, what is said to be a good classical education, and 
an attested docu.ment, handed to me in his last moments, setting forth 
that, when I was about two years old, he found me in charge of a djong 
man, a suspicious character, who had met with a fatal accident, and who 
deposed that, two or three days previously, he had been suborned by 
some unknown party to make away with me ; but that, when he was 
cariying me off to the wretched hut in which he lay, he had been followed 
by a woman who seemed to have divined his purpose, and who dissuaded 
him from committing the crime, agreeing to take me off his hands on 
the following day, and bear me away where I should never again be 
heard of. The man breathed his last a few moments after making this 
declaration ; and as he Kved quite alone and seemed utterly destitute, the 
clergyman, whose name I bear, took me home with him, awaiting the re- 
appearance of the woman. She came, and taking down his name, ad- 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 11 

dress, and even the place of his birth, promised to return the next day. 
He never saw her afterwards, and, as he was childless, I became his 
son ! 

AIjICE. {Tenderlf/.) FooxchiLdl \^'^l at an escape ! {SniiUngly.) Well, 
then, Mr. Travers, you may have some of the bluest blood of the land 
in your veins for aught you know. 

Travers. Ah ! Miss Mortimer, my birth and slender purse are, I 
fear, wedded most lawfully ; but this does not trouble me much, for 
although I am far from despising wealth or station, I think that true 
nobility may be found outside as well as within their circle. 

M.OB.Ti'i'i.E.B.. {With generous emotion.) True! Mr. Travers, wealth and 
station, without innate worth, have no more true value than the mere 
gaudy trappings of the stage that so often dazzle us ! 

Alice. Bravo, papa ! Well and nobly said ; but as you have inci- 
dentally mentioned the stage, doubtless Mr. Travers, duriug his resi- 
dence in town, saw a good deal of it. 

Mortimer. Oh ! I see ! You are verging towards a favorite topic of 
yours, 

Travers. Yes, Miss Mortimer, I did see something* of it, to the re- 
moval of some of my prejudices. I had been taught to consider its 
tendencies injurious, but found the theatre, in even its least exalted as- 
pect, immeasurably in advance of the street or the gin-shop. Where 
large numbers of even the lowest classes are drawn together promis- 
cuously they are more decorous and subject to greater restraints than 
• if they were scattered through the intemperate and immoral resorts of 
a town or city in twos and threes, which they should certainly be, were 
it not for some central point of attraction such as the theatre. Were it 
not for the stage, there are thousands upon thousands of poor persons 
to-day that would have no true idea of the costumes, manners, and 
customs of the past, or of real life in the present day ovitside the con- 
tracted sphere in which they move. Through its heroes and heroines 
it fosters, as a general thing, noble aspirations, and seldom represents 
anything half so bad as may be met in books now found in the hands 
of countless readers. In fact, great as may be the paiater and the 
sculptor, their creations, in an educational point of view, fall far short 
of those of the drama or stage. With them, all action is fixed in one 
eternal pose. The Christ of Rubens has not yet descended from the 
Cross, nor have the marble serpents of "The Laocoon " yet strangled 
the priest of Apollo and his two sons. In varying language, as in life 
and action, the living, glowing pictures of the stage transcend all mere 
works of art. And hence we may properly regard it as an abiding 
source of intelligence and amusement, in whose shining depths we ma}', 
with advantage, lave, at times, the dusty limbs of labor and of 
thought. 

Mortimer. Really, Mr. Travers, you are a most eloquent advocate of 
the drama ! 



12 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

AiiiCE. Yes, papa, and a most just one also ! 

Mortimer. And a most generous one, if you will, my dear. But is 
not that a glorious sunset ! {Painting through the window.) 

Travers. {Rising and ajiproaching the open, casement.) It is truly re- 
splendent. Is it not, Miss Mortimer ? 

Alice. {Advaticmg to Travers's side.) It is indeed magnificent ! On 
the verge of the horizon, what a fairy -land of crimson and purple and 
gold ! ( WitJi a slight start. ) Oh ! here comes Sir Reginald Howard I 
He is just at the door. 

Mortimer. {Aside.) The deuce! Bather awkward! I thought he 
was in London. 

Enter Sir Reginald, who, with a deep scowl, on recognizing Alice and 
Travers standing together., halts for a moment in the doorway. 

Sir Reginald. {Regaining his composure, advances toicards Miss Wor- 
iiyiKU with a scarifying leer, and extends his hand.) How do you do. 
Miss Mortimer ? {Shakes hands. ) Pray excuse my presence at such an 
inopportune moment ; but the fact is, having just returned from town, 
I could not deny myself the pleasure of calling at once and paying my 
respects. 

Alice. {Quite composedly.) You are very gracious, Sir Reginald. But 
as to the moment being inopportune, I regard it quite the reverse, 
as it affords me the pleasure of introducing Mr. Stanhope Travers. 
{Both are introduced, and boic stiffly ; on which Sir Reginald turns 
abruptly away and seats himself beside Mr. Mortimer, who seems ill at 
ease. ) 

Sir Reginald. {Addressing Mortimer in evident bad humor.) 
Before leaving for town, sir, I had no opportunity of apprising you 
«f<hat you have in your service a ruffian called Whiting, who recently 
'Shreatened, without the slightest provocation, to assault me ; and 
who, during my absence, abused my valet in a most wanton and cruel 
wxanner ! 

Alice. {Stepping suddenly forward in anger, and addressing Sir 
REGINALD). Dick Whitiag, my foster-brother, although a servant and 
iiaeducated, is no ruffian, Sir Reginald ! He is respected by all who 
know him, whose respect is worth having. I shall not, now, venture 
to say whether he was or was not justified in resenting your gratuitous 
cut of a whip at the White Hart, on the occasion you refer to ; but this 
I will say : had he not punished that valet of yours for attempting to 
emulate you with his switch, he would have sunk to a very low point 
in my estimation ! 

Sir Reginald. {With deep mortification and anger.) Miss Mor- 
timer ! 

Alice. Exactly, Sir Reginald ! And were I a man, and the poorest 
and humblest in the land, I should not suffer the whip of the proudest 
or greatest in it to be laid across my shoulders with impunity ; not to 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 13 

speak of the switch of a low, mischief-making lackey, who is not only 
a reproach to the place, but a disgrace to the livery he wears ! 

Sir Reginald. {Scarcely able to contain himself. ) Thank you, Miss 
Mortimer ! And in the presence of a stranger, too ! 

Travers. {Sevei^ely.) Your reference to me, sir, is uncalled for. 
If Miss Mortimer felt my presence embarrassing in any degree, she 
would have selected some other period for her remarks. 

Sir Reginald. {Sharply.) I did not address you, sir ! 

Travers. You referred to me, sir, and in my hearing ! 

Mortimer. {In a state of great excitement .) Gentlemen! gentlemen! 

Sir Reginald. {Glancing swperciUously at Travers. ) What do you 
mean by ' ' gentlemen ! " Mr. Mortimer ? I hope you don't regard the 
term to be without some restriction ! 

Mortimer. {Becomes suddenly aroused at the insult offered to Travers 
beneath his roof., while the latter ey_es Sir Reginald, with folded arms.) 
This is neither just nor courteous, Sir Reginald ! Alice, my dear, you 
had better withdraw ! 

Alice. {Extending her hand to Travers, icho takes it.) Adieu, for 
the present ! Send me some books to-morrow ! 

{Exit Alice, loith a cold, formal curtsey to Sir Reginald. 

Travers. {Stepping close to Sir Reginald.) Now that I am imem- 
barrassed by the presence of a lady, although not yet quite free 
{glancing at Mortimer), let me inform you that, had you been guilty, 
in any other place, of the wanton insult you have offered me, I should 
have inflicted the severest personal chastisement on you ! 

Sir Reginald. {Starting to his feet, and addressing Mortimer. ) Will 
you, sir, permit me to be insulted in your presence by this person, 
from whom I cannot obtain or demand the satisfaction due to my rank ; 
although he seems to be on the most intimate terms with both you and 
your daughter ? 

Travers. Coward ! Coward ! 

Sir Reginald. ( Without appearing to notice the interruption. ) This 
roof is still yours for a short period at least, and you ought to exercise 
some authority beneath it ! 

Mortimer. {Bounding from his chair in a fury of anger. ) This, 
Sir Reginald, is more than even I shall suffer at your hands tamely ; 
for you not only refer, in a most heartless manner, to my shattered 
fortunes, but intimate that I and Miss Mortimer have formed an un- 
worthy acquaintance. As, however, you have feelingly observed that 
this roof is yet mine for a brief space, I shall take advantage of ths 
circumstance, and wish you a very good evening ! 

Sir Reginald. {Retiring towards the door, with a demoniacal expres- 
sion of countenance, ichile M.0WT1MKR sinks into a chair.) So! so! Mr. 
Mortimer ! We shall see whether you are so grandiloquent in a day or 
two! Pray make my compliments to your amiable daughter. {Lin- 
gering in the doorway). Won't you, kind sir? ( Witli a fiendish laugh.) 



14 NEARLiT A TRAGEDY. 

Trayeks. {Striding towards Sir Reginald. ) Away ! away ! lest I 
trample you into dnst ! [JEJxit Sir Reginald, tcith alacrity. 

Mortimer. {Sloicly rising from his chair.) This has been very un- 
pleasant for both of us, Mr. Travers. I am quite glad Miss Mortimer with- 
drew as soon as she did ; although the poor child has been long aware 
that the roof that shelters us is sorely embarrassed. Let us step out on 
the lawn. {Taking his arm.) The cool air will refresh me. 

Travers. Calm yourself, dear sir ! and take counsel from the pro- 
verb, " All is not lost that's in danger ! " ^Exeunt. 

END OP ACT I. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. — A wood extending hetioeen the Hermitage and the Grange. 
Travers seen walking and reading in the 

Travers. ( Closing his hook tceanly., and pausing. ) 
'Tis all in vain ! For me there's no relief ! 
These pages, that had once possessed such charms, 
Now trail their beauties upon broken wing ! 

! how supremely glorious did she look 
When, in her humble servitor's just cause, 
She struck that paltry dastard to the heart 
With the keen shafts of her indignant scorn ! 
But she returned not with a fond '' Good-night ! " 
And I am but an accidental friend ! {Sadly.) 
From these desponding doubts, oh ! whence escape ? 
Or where take refuge from those lustrous eyes 
That filled the crimson beaker of my heart 
With this hot, frenzied flood of luscious wine, 
Till at a bound, with my own life-blood drunk, 

1 madly open flung my bosom's gates. 
And bid this bright creation to a feast 
Where I myself a skeleton now sit. 
Like that grim guest at the Egyptian's board ! 
Was it for this that I had fought so long 
Against hard fortune and my humble birth, 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 15 

Or trimraed the midnight lamp o'er boastful lore, 
That thus deserts me in my sorest need ? 

{Striking the volume with Ms clenched hand.) 
Oh ! vain philosophy, where art thou now ? 
What of thy frostwork on this window pane — 

{Placing his hand on liis heart. ) 
Thy pictures hung upon these naked walls ? 

{Fluttering his hand over the region of his heart.) 
Dissolved beneath the light of those dark orbs, 
And the warm sighs that winged the words of thanks 
That struggling from their pris'n of pearl and rose, 
In broken music fell upon my ear. 
As she a moment lay within these arms ! 

{Extending his arms. ) 
But, I am weary of myself and thought. 
And here shall rest me in the quiet shade, 
And seek a friendly void, however brief, 
In which my lab'ring soul may find relief ! 

{Advancing to a rustic seat a,nd sinking listlessly upon it. ) 
Alice entcHng the loood close hy the Hermitage. Gipsy Meg discovered 

concealing herself in a copse hard by., where she stands listening. 
Alice. {Pausing after a few steps, without wpprehending the proximity 

of either Meg or Travers. 
What true nobility ! Though poor, how proud ! 
And with what dignity and poUshed grace 
He met that rude assault of wealth and power, 
Though fierce the light that burned within his eyes ! 

{Placing her hand on her. heart. ) 
Be still ! be still ! Poor fluttering heart, be still ! 
Nor send so oft this crimson, tell-tale flood 
Along the shallows of my cheek and brow 
To beat against the iceberg of my brain. 
And be thrown back again, chilled through and through ! 
A few brief days ! Oh ! what a change they've made ! 
No longer now myself, I only dream 
Of the sweet spell that so enthralled my sense 
When, by this very wood, now scarce a month, 
I woke to consciousness within his arms, 
That just had snatched me from the jaws of death ! 
I loved hhn from that moment ! 'Twas my fate ! 
Although his breast may make a cold return, 
For I have heard great learning chills the blood ! 
But I this trembling secret can disguise. 

So that it shall escape all ears and eyes ! ( Continues to walk. ) 

Meg. {Emerging from her conceahnent and standing before her.) May 



16 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

it please you, sweet lady, cross my palm with silver, and you shall know 
the future and the past from my lips. {Extending her hand.) 

Alice, {tymilingly.) Good mother, I am sore afraid that, if you di- 
vine truly, there is sad news in store for me and mine. But take this 
piece of silver, and read the tangled lines of this hand, if you will. {Ex- 
tending both hand and silver. ) 

I shall not shrink from what they may reveal, 
For I have felt near all that I can feel ! 
Meg. (leaking her hand and scrutinimig it closely.) What do I here 
behold ! Two rivals in deadly conflict ! The one penniless and learned ; 
the other rich and haughty ! And here steals into view a beautiful 
young creature, full of love and goodness, 

Who on the humbler turns a sweet, bright face ; 
Though birth and fortune yet shall win the race ! 
Alice. {Suddenly loithdrawing her hand.) 

Enough ! Good gypsy mother, I must go ; 
No more of this wild romaunt would I know ! 
Meg. {Looking Alice earnestly in the face.) Wild romaunt ! Tell me, 
who stood by yonder copse on yestermorn with a bruised wild, flower 
in her hand, and cried, '' How like my heart this is," and sighed, and 
sighed, and sighed again the name of that poor rival ? And who was it 
that, but scarce a minute since, within this very wood, confessed to her- 
self, half aloud, that she loved him since the moment he first snatched 
her from the jaws of death ? 

Alice. {In great tre-pidation and alarm.) Great heaven ! I am un- 
done ! Oh ! good gypsy mother ! Oh ! kind gypsy mother ! Take pity 
upon me ! Have mercy upon me ! 

And this my secret keep at any cost ; 
For if you once reveal it, I am lost ! 
Meg. Your secret's safe enough, Alice Mortimer ! I remember your 
mother ! 

But now I must away to some lone dell. 
In search of herbs to work a potent spell ! 

{Disappeai's among the trees. ) 
Alice. ( With great emotion., and while gazing., as if fascinated, after 
Meg. ) How terrible ! And I have been my own executioner ! 

[Travers now discovers her standing in the distance^ and at once 
' approaching, reaches her as she, without perceiving Mm, is about 

to retrace her steps to the Herjnitage.^ 

Travers. ( While Alice starts at the sound of Ids voice.) More wild- 
flowers in the wood ! Sweet lady — Miss Mortimer, I mean — I am glad to 
perceive that the annoyances of last evening have not preyed upon your 
Cheek. 

Alice. Oh ! Mr. Travers, you startled me ! I thought I was 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 17 

quite alone. {Extending her Mnd. ) Did you see that gypsy -woraau 
who has just left me ? She has been quite unnerving me with her 
strange predictions and knowledge of things. 

Traveus. I have not seen her to-day, although she may have seen 
me ; for she is almost always to be found in some part of the wood, near 
the Hermitage or the G-range. 

Alice. She is a singular creature, and I fear no friend of yours. At 
least I infer so from a remark she made, 

Travers. Indeed ! Well, I must console myself with the conviction 
that I am void of all offence against her; although she says she has 
crossed my path in other lands. 

Alice. That's strange ! But they are a singular race, and liable to 
turn up in the most unexpected places. 

Travers. May I hope that Mr. Mortimer is quite well ; and that he 
suffers no ill effects from the excitement of last evening v 

Alice. Why, thank you, he is quite well, and is loud in his praise of 
the manner in which you acquitted yourself. 

Travers. I was sorely tried, Miss Mortimer, I assure you ! 

Alice. Yes, papa told me so ; and that you had nearly lost all com- 
mand of yourself when Sir Reginald made some sneering observation 
relative to me. 

Travers. It was at that point I had to impose bands of triple steel 
upon myself ; for where you are concerned, Miss Mortimer, the dread of 
consequences disappears at once, and life itself is but a feather in the 
scale ! ( With great earnestness.) 

Alice. [Embarrassed with intense emotion ; hut offering her hand^ 
which he carries respectfully to his lips.) You are good and brave and 
kind, Mr. Travers ; and what can I say more, than that I feel I owe 
you my life ? — ^a boon I can never repay ; and if I can, pray tell me how. 

Travers. {With sudden and startling fervor.) With your love! with 
your love ! Alice Mortimer ! without which all this fair world is a desert 
to me. 

Alice. {Softly withdrawing her Iiand, and trembling violently.) Oh! 
Mr. Travers ! For Heaven's sake, hush ! These trees have ears, as I have 
just learned to my cost ! But now I must return to the Hermitage. 
Adieu ! {Extending her hand again., ichich Travers seizes excitedly^ 
vresses to his lips., and retains.) 

Travers. Adieu ! But ere you leave this spot, if you would spare 
me many a bitter thought and anguished throb, oh ! bid me hope, at 
least. {Covering her hand with kisses.) 

Alice. {In a state of j)ainfal excitement., ichile releasing her hand softly 
once more. ) There now ; pray let me go ; and if you fain would hope, 
you well may do so ; for now I feel I have no heart to carry hence ! 
Adieu! Adieu! {Tenderly.) 

Travers. Adieu ! Beloved, adieu ! 

{Exit Alice, hissing her hand to Travers. 



18 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

{Solus.) 

The chrysalis is broken, and I mount 

The bright empyrean upon golden wings ! 

Oh ! what a silver lining to the cloud 

That had o'ershadowed me from day to day ! 

How sweet the birds sing in yon hazel copse ; 

And what strange fragrance fills the purple air. 

All things are beautiful ! The earth and sky 

Have melted into one broad paradise ! 

There is nor pain nor sorrow in this world, 

But the frail husks of an abounding bliss 

That we misname, not knowing their true use ! 

Oh ! how shall I regain my hold on earth, 

Or win my spirit back to things of sense ? — 

But stay ! With all this heav'n of light and love, 

What if the shattered fortunes of her sire 

Consign her to that high-born dastard's arms ? 

Then would I court some final, fatal stroke ! {Fiercely.) 

Though, swift descending through my maddened brain, 

It smeared my lips and filled my quivering throat 

With the hot vintage of my cloven skull ! {Taming to leave the wood.) 

But hold ! With Fate itself I'll dare to cope ; 

Her love so fills my soul with strength and hope ! {Exit Travers. 

£j7iter Toi^Y Ligiitfoot, emerging stealthily from a thicket, close bytchere 
Alice and Travers ?iad been standing. 

Tony. {Peering cautiously about him with a wicked leer.) Saw it all! 
Heard it all ! Know it all ! Glorious! Hurra! {Sotto voce.) Capital! 
Tony, you're in luck ! Billing and cooing ! Vowing eternal love ! Fond 
adieus ! and kissing of hands and fingers ! Sir Reginald's at a discount, 
Tony ! How will he like that ? Not well ! Tony answers, Not well ! 
But he may succeed yet, for all that ! How, Tony ? Fye ! Fye ! for 
asking such silly qviestions ! You know how ! Oypsy Meg carries a long 
knife, I warrant you ! They say she hates this romantic tutor, who is to 
be found in the wood almost every evening at dusk, passing either to or 
from the Hermitage. A gypsy's purse is always empty ! Enough said, 
Tony ! and no matter if she swings for it after ! I know Sir Reginald ! 
He won't stick at trifles when there's a rival in the way ! Tony, you're 
in luck ! Would you like to keep the W^hite Heart ? Yes ! You have 
a taste for innkeeping. But you must be cautious, and get that dear, 
devilish hyena of a master of yours as deep in the mud as you're in the 
mire ! He is a magistrate, will now have wealth untold at his command, 
and can, therefore, stand between you and danger ! Take him into your 
confidence, Tony ! He likes you because you're a gentleman's gentleman 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY, 19 

of the first water ! Go, then, and get up that ugly back of his ! Make 
him show his sharp, white teeth ! Tell him what you have heard and 
seen ! Make him snap his fierce lantern jaws like a wolf ! Handle 
the ropes carefully and you're all right ! Go to him and turn his thin lips 
blue, and his small eyes green ! Tony, you're in luck ! Now for a 
bold stroke, and your fortune's made. {Exit Tony. 

Be-enter Meg, creeping from some underwood that had been almost beneath 
Tony's /^e?!. 

Meg. {Rising slmdy and looking cautiously about her.) So ! so ! 
Master Tony ! You have it all your own way ! Well, whatever settle- 
ment I may have to make with this rival you speak of, will be made in 
my own way and on his own account solely ! Leave him to me, Master 
Tony ! I can manage him a great deal better than either you or 
" that dear, devilish hyena of a master of yours," as you call him ; al- 
though, should I silence him, quietly, in the interests of Sir Reginald, 
you were considerate enough to say that it was no matter if I swung 
for it afterwards ! That was ungenerous ! Well, the plot thickens, 
and I must away, Tony : 

For if you now have found so much to do, 

'Tis strange if I can't find a little too. 

{Exit Meg. 



Scene II. — Apartment in the Manor. Enter Lester, alxme, poring over 
some papei's. 

Lester. ( Weanly.) Thank heaven, I shaU soon be rid of this painful 
trust. I was his father's bosom friend, and knew his mother well. 
They were a noble pair ! Then, how he came to turn out a wretch 
so vile, I can't divine ; but so it is ! We part, as we have been for 
years — enemies ! — and all because I would not break that solemn 
vow, and pander to his vicious heart and brain. Well, I am consoled 
by the reflection that, through all this lapse of time, free from, the 
cares of a married life, I have done faithfully by his interests and my 
own good name. {Sinks into a chair ; hears a rap at the door). Come in ! 
Enter Doctor Harley. 

Doctor. {Briskly.) Good-morning, Lester ! How do you do ? 

Lester. {Bising. They shake hands.) Doctor, I am glad to see you ! 
Take a chair. {Besumes his seat.) 

DocT. I can't stay just now; I merely called to see Waters, that 
housekeeper of yours, who, when I was prescribing for her yesterday, 
said she had something of a private and very serious character to lay 
before me as a magistrate. 

Lester, Indeed ! Although I have seen that woman almost daily for 



20 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

the last fifteen years, I never could make her otit thoroughly ; and 
have been always of the opinion that her mind is not at ease. 

DoCT. Novv^ that I recollect, people do say she is in the habit of 
talking to herself, like that gypsy Meg, whom, by the way, I have just 
passed in the haU. 1 heard her tell one of the servants that she wanted 
to speak to you. 

Lester. What can she have to say to me ? 

DoCT. That I am unable to tell you. But good-by for the present ; 
I may see you again after I hear what Waters has to say. ShaU I send 
that gypsy in as I pass her ? 

Lester. Yes, thank you. Be good enough to leave the door open, 
and bid her enter without any ceremony. \_Exbt Doctor. 

Enter Meg. 

Meg. Good-morning, Mr. Lester, if it's not too late ; for I don't see 
the cuckoo clock standing in the corner there {pointing), that told the 
hours so pleasantly when you and Sir Arthur used to ride over to the 
Oakes to see the woodmen at work, now many a long year ago. 

Lester. {Looking narrowly at her.) In truth, good dame, you 
awaken somewhat sad recollections at this peculiar time. But how a 
stranger, like you, come to know aught of this, for the clock has long 
since disappeared from that nook, I am at a loss to say. 

Meg. ( Without seeming to notice this observation.) And there's good 
Doctor Harley. who just passed me in the hall. His locks are somewhat 
grayer and thinner than they were on the morning he disputed with 
Lady Howard about t'ae vaccination of the noble Sir Reginald, then an 
infant not much over a year old. My Lady would not have the upper 
part of the dear child's arm disfigured by the slightest scar, and actually 
constramed the Doctor to vaccinate the under part which became so 
irritated with constant rubbing against the poor infant's side, that the 
sore was not healed until after she died ; although little Fred Mans- 
field's arm, that was vaccinated in the usual place the very same day, 
healed in a week. 

Lester. {Rising.) Woman, you surprise me! I remember the cir- 
cumstance you mention, distinctly, and so does the Doctor, who but 
quite recently read both cases for me from a note made in his diary at 
the time they occurred, where every case, no matter how trifling, con- 
nected with his practice for over thirty years, will be found entered 
minutely. 

Meg. And how is dear, good, kind Sir Reginald, and Sarah Waters, 
that nursed 'him in foreign lands, after little Fred Mansfield died 
there ? And what became of Nancy Evans, whose old mother still lives 
in the village, and who, after taking a solemn oath to watch over the 
dear baby, disappeared from the Manor, after my Lady died, whose 
foster-sister she was, and who nursed the young child until he was 
taken from her by Mrs. Mansfield, and carried beyond the seas ; 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 21 

although, with tears and prayers, she begged to be allowed to accom- 
pany him ? 

Lester. ( With increasing astonishment^ and laying Jiis hand on her 
sJtoulder.) Woman! what is your name? How came you by this 
knowledge ? I must know. What is your name ? 

Meg. {Draimng a folded paper from her bosom, and presenting it to 
Lester.) Read this, and you may learn my name and something more 
besides ! • But, before opening it, you must pledge me solemnly that 
you will not divulge its contents to any one save Doctor Harley and the 
three others named, until the evening before Sir Reginald's birthday, 
now at the door. 

Lester. {Taldng the paper and handing My.o, a chair,) I promise. 
Reseated. {She sits dote ?i.) I shall look over this now, lest I may have 
something to say to you on it at once. {Resumes his seat, and, opening 
the p)ap)er, begins to read with interest, culminating in the wildest and 
most uncontrollable excitement. Leaping to his feet in a tremor of 
frenzy, a7id still staring at the paper). Great heaven! What is this? 
Ring for Harley ! Ho ! Harley ! Harley ! {Bounding over to Meg, 
and seizing her by the arm.) Woman, you're insane ! or am I mad ? I 
can read no more ! It's a lie ! It's a lie ! Ring for Harley ! {Sinks 
into a chair, overcome with the most fearful excitement. Meg rings ; but 
the sound is scarcely heard ichen the door is burst suddenly open, and the 
Doctor rushes in, in a state of excitement the most extraordinary also.) 

Doct. {Basiling up to Lester, v^ho bounds to his feet again.) 
Lester ! Lester ! The world's coming to an end ! Read this ! Read 
this, that has been just sworn to by Waters ! {Thrusting the paper 
before him. ) Read ! read, man ! Read ! 

Lester. {Engrossed with 7iis oicn case, and being, as it were, half 
beside himself. ) Doctor ! Doctor ! Look at that woman ! Is she mad, 
or am I mad ? It's a lie, Doctor ! It's a lie ! Read ! Read it ! 
{Endeamring to attract the Doctor's attention to the paper given him by 
Meg.) 

Doct. Lester, what has occurred to you ? Are we all mad ? 

{Both sink into a cliair). 

Meg. ( Who observes the whole scene without the slightest discomposure., 
rising a.nd standing before both the Doctor and Lester.) Gentlemen, 
calm yourselves ! You are both quite sane, and so am I, and so, doubt- 
less, is Sarah Waters also. Compare both documents carefully ! Per- 
haps one may have some bearing on the other. I have spoken to Sarah 
lately ! 

Doct. True ! true ! But has the sky fallen ? 

Lester. What 's the matter, Harley ? I see something mysterious 
has befallen you also ! {Rising.) Let us all retire to my private study, 
and try and solve this miraculous case of mine, and yours, too, as you 
seem to have one. {Making a sign to Meg.) Good woman, we shall 
need you ; follow us ! {Exeunt. 



22 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

Scene 111.— The wood. Enter Sir Reginald and Tony, conversing. 
Sir Reginald throws himself on a rustic seat, while Tony stands be- 
side Mm. 

Sir Reginald, Well, Lightfoot, although I know nothing of that 
silly teething-brash called love, and notwithstanding what you have 
now told me, I won't be foiled ! But you are certain aU this passed be- 
tween them? 

Tony. I was as near them as I am to you, Sir Reginald ! It was 
nothing but billing and cooing, fond adieus, and vows of eternal 
love ! 

Sir Reginald. See to it, Lightfoot ! This beggar has crossed my 
path, and to be candid, I have already had some evidence of the truth 
of what you now say ! You and I have known each other for some time ! 
Look to it ! You know ! 

Tony. Sir Reginald, have I ever failed you ? 

Sir Reginald. No ! Lightfoot, never ! And now, by the way, that 
I think of it, have you not often told me that you would like to keep 
an inn? 

Tony. {With sudden interest.) I have, Sir Reginald. It was always 
my ambition ! 

Sir Reginald. Well, then, let me tell you that I shall turn Capon 
out of the White Hart immediately. 

Tony. As he richly deserves. Sir Reginald, for always siding against 
you, and having become so great an admirer of this tutor that is now 
hand and glove with the Doctor and Mr, Lester. 

Sir Reginald. {Significantly.) Both of whom are magistrates as 
well as I am, Lightfoot ! Remember that ! 

Tony. {Confidently.) Never fear, Sir Reginald, I'm no novice in 
these little affairs, as you know. 

Sir Reginald. What is this you were saying of that gypsy woman ? 

Tony. That she is very poor and hates this Travers, as I have been 
informed, who is now to be met nightly passing, from the Hermitage to 
the Grange, through the wood. 

Sir Reginald. You have a hundred pounds at your disposal ; but 
be cautious ; and recollect, Lightfoot, I advise nothing, nor do I sug- 
gest anything ! 

Tony. I understand. Sir Reginald ! I know what I'm about : and wOl 
not rely much upon the friendliness of the Doctor, who said that Whit- 
ing should have broken every bone in my body instead of simply giving 
me a bloody nose the other day. 

Sir Reginald. What has resuscitated that old hag, Waters? Al- 
though she nursed me, I have always hated her, for she never seemed 
to evince the slightest affection for me. 

Tony. Oh ! the old witch had been ailing for some time, but she's 
now about again, more lively than ever. The Doctor or the gypsy pre- 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 23 

scribed something for her lately, for they have both been with her, I 
hear, and she is now as brisk as can be. 

Sm Reginald. Yes, I knew she had been ill in both mind and body 
for months, whatever the poor devil has done, and that's why I was 
surprised to see her bustling about this morning. You may go, now, 
Lightf oot. You have business to do ; and I shall ride over to the 
Oakes, and perhaps into the village. 

Tony. I have business to do, Sir Reginald, and you may consider it 
just as good as done ! {Significantly.) 

[Bows and disappears among the trees. 

Sir Reginald. (Sohis.) I have been too precipitate at the Hermi- 
tage ! I must retrace my steps, if I would crush this proud, beggarly 
beauty ! I must come across that old dotard of a father of hers, express 
my contrition for my hasty conduct regarding him and this lackey, who 
is now in good hands ! I must ask his permission to return to the Her- 
mitage, so that I may endeavor to make my peace personally with his 
daughter, whom I could even make Lady Howard sooner than fail ! I 
shall be able to glean from her own lips how the case actually stands 
between us. I may, if I find it necessary, make a formal offer of my 
hand ! — my hand, even ! It will be a bold experiment, but should she 
reject the honor, beyond a shadow of hope, then shall I crush her ! 
crush her ! crush her into the dust ! (gesticidaHng at each pause) and 
send her and her father to the door afterwards, without a guinea in 
their purse, or a roof of their own to shelter them ! But now for the 
Oakes and the village. I must learn what is said or done regarding 
this coming fete, whose progress seems to have got so sudden an im- 
petus at the Manor. But all won't do. Master Lester ! You shan't creep 
into my good graces at the eleventh hour. You go with the rest of them ! 
{Suddenly nsing and walking away. ) 

{Exit Sir Reginald. 

END OF ACT IL 



ACT HI. 

Scene I. — Room in the Orange., with books, etc. Travers seated at a 
table, with his head resting on his hand., in deep thought. 
Travers. {Rising and slowly pacing the apartment.) 
There's not a sordid fibre in her soul 
To bind her to the chariot-wheels of wealth ; 
So here, again, between her heart and mine, 



24 NEARLY A TRAGEDY." 

An empty purse can yawn no fatal gulf ! 

Oh, how I love her for so fierce and proud 

A refutation of that cruel lie, 

That all the surest shafts of the blind god 

Are winged with selfish plumes and tipped with gold ! 

And how my spirit reels within me still. 

Drunk with the nectar of her first warm kiss, 

When the soft murmurs of her trembling voice 

So filled the chambers of my listening soul, 

That all my being into music turned. 

And with a sudden, nameless rapture burned ! {Some one knocks. ) 

Come in ! come in ! 

Enter Doctor Harley. 

DocT. How do you do, Travers ? They told me I'd find you here. 

Travers. Doctor, I am delighted to see you. {TJiey shake hands.) 
Be seated. {Hands a chair. The BocTOii sits.) You see my shoulder 
is quite restored. {Touching one of his shoulders with his hand.) 

DocT. Only a slight sprain ; quite a trifle, Travers. 

Travers. So I supposed at the time I slipped. Doctor ; but, really, 
you examined it with such interest last evening that I thought I was 
more hurt than I had suiDposed. 

DocT. {Laughingly.) Why, yes, I recollect now that I did look rather 
narrowly at it. But, then, my dear fellow, you must know, to the eye 
of an old practitioner such as I am, the very simplest cases sometimes 
present features of great interest. Miss Mortimer sends her compli- 
ments, and thanks you for the books and flowers. 

Travers. Then, Doctor, I am indebted to you and Miss Mortimer 
both; to her, for her politeness and consideration, and to you, for being 
the bearer of what, I must confess, is most gratifying to me. 

DoCT. Travers ! {Pauses.) 

Travers. Well, Doctor? 

DocT. Would you mind my calling you " a sly dog ? " 

Travers. {Laughing.) Why, no indeed. Doctor. There is nothing so 
terrible in it ! 

DocT. {Archly.) Then, Travers, you are a sly dog ; and a very sly one, 
or old Frank Harley' s mistaken ! I heard of the whole affair between 
you and Sir Reginald at the Hermitage. Mortimer says you behaved 
nobly ; but that he never thought some one you know of was such a 
' ' vixen ! " — such an ' ' Amazon ! '" These were his words ; although they 
were accompanied by a very merry twinkle of his eye. 

Travers. It was she. Doctor, who behaved nobly, and who treated 
that titled gambler and libertine as he deserved ! 

DocT. But will you believe it ? He has come down off his high horse, 
and apologized to Mortimer, in the village, for his vile conduct in rela- 
tion to the whole of you, and asked permission to call again at the Her- 
mitage, in the hope of making his peace with Miss Mortimer ! In short, 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 25 

my dear fellow, he went so far as to intimate that he intended to pro- 
pose, if he felt there was absolute forgiveness on her part ; and you 
know, Travers, that the family have long been in sore pecuniary straits ! 

Tkavers. ( With excitement.) Let him propose, Doctor ! but if I 
know an3'thing of Miss Mortimer, she will be more explicit with him 
than she was on the occasion you have spoken of, and give him his 
M//r/e in a manner not to be mistaken. 

DoCT. Then, Travers, the family will, I am certain, be embarrassed 
very seriously, and at once ; for you have, I presume, heard that Sir 
Reginald, by some means or other, has managed to get the Hermitage 
into his clutches, and can turn them out of it now, at almost any mo- 
ment he chooses. 

Travers. (Excitedly. ) But have the Mortimers no friends or rela- 
tives to aid them in this the hour of their sore distress ? 

DocT. Plenty of friends, Travers ; but none that I am aware of who 
are sufficiently wealthy to spare anything like the amount that would 
relieve the Hermitage of its embarrassments. 

Travers. (Bitte/ii/.) Now I feel what it is to be poor! and yet, 
what a monster riches may make a man ! 

DocT. Never despair, Travers ! Men as poor as you and I have be- 
come suddenly rich through some freak of fortune ! 

Travers. Doctor ! in my case it would be a most unaccountable 
freak of fortune, indeed ! 

DocT. I'm not so sure of that ! But, let me ask you if you know 
anything of that Gypsy Meg, more than you have already told me ? 

Travers. Nothing more. Doctor. Nothing more. 

DoCT. Have you not heard, lately, that she is an enemy of yours ? 

Travers. Well, I had a slight intimation of something of the sort 
recently ; but I really can scarcely believe that she is. 

DoCT. 1 heard it whispered that she was always dogging your steps 
in and about the wood ; and, lest the rumor, if it happened to have 
reached your ears, should cause you any uneasiness, I dropped in more 
particularly to say, you may rest satisfied that, though eccentric, the 
woman is, in my opinion, quite harmless. 

Travers. Thank you. Doctor, for your goodness. I think your esti- 
mate of this Meg's disposition is correct. I never met her until her 
arrival here recently ; although, within a day or two, she has told me 
that she knew me in other lands ; and that she is an English gypsy, 
who, during the war, had, without the slightest provocation, been sud- 
denly seized in France as a spy, and thrust into prison, where, not being 
allowed the privilege of communicating with her friends, she had lain 
for years and years, until the recent proclamation of peace, when she 
was set free, an old woman, without ever having had a trial ! This I 
believe to be true ; for she speaks French fluently, and knows every- 
thing about French prison -life. However, after all, she may be an im- 
postor and dangerous ; but I doubt it. 
2 



26 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

DoCT. So do I, Travers. By tlie way, Lester tells me yon have been 
long promising to take a drive into town v/ith him. We are going 
in immediately, and would like you to join us. You can ride with 
either of vis, for I always take my own trap, having generally some calls 
to make on the road. We mostly spend the evening with the solicitors 
in Clifford street, who are two noble fellows and old friends of ours. 
You promised to make them a visit the time you and they dined with 
me. They like you amazingly, and will be delighted if you spend a 
night with us beneath their magnificent and hospitable roof. 

Travers. I was very much pleased with both these gentlemen, and 
shall feel great pleasure in visiting them with you and Mr. Lester at 
any time ; but I trust you may both make it convenient to leave this 
before the coming fete, as I should like to remain in the city until it is 
over. 

DocT. Nonsense, Travers ! Lester is constrained to be here on that 
day, to make explanations and give up his trust ; and we, his friends, 
are not going to desert him at a moment so critical. Out of friendship 
and respect for him, my dear fellow, we must all be present ! Even 
the Mortimers must be there ; for you must know that, until Lester 
formally relinquishes his office and places certain parchments in the 
hands of the heir, which he won't do until he has said his say, Sir 
Reginald will have no more power at the Manor than I have. That's 
all arranged ; and let me tell you the people of the Grange and many 
of the elite of the village are going. 

Travers. Well, Doctor, if you are quite satisfied that the attendance 
you refer to will not be construed into any respect for this Sir Regi- 
nald, but be set down to the proper accovmt, I cannot see any objection 
to my being present, or any of the friends of Mr. Lester ; as we all can 
leave the Manor when the transfer is made, and just before this How- 
ard makes a speech that he has, I leam, been studying of late most 
assiduously. 

DoCT. That's right, Travers ! I'm on foot. Will you take a turn in 
the wood, for a few moments ? {Both rising. ) 

Travers. With all my heart ! [Exeunt. 



Scene II. — Apartinent in the Hermitage. Susan busily engaged ar- 
ranging it. Statue on the mantel-piece. 

Susan. {Pausing suddenly.) I'll brain that Dick Whiting with this 
(raising a small feather-duster) the next time he dares to kiss me on 
the stairs ! The way I'm worried with that wretch is enough to make 
me go into a nunnery, if I only knew my catechism ! I hate the very 
sight of him ! so I do, handsome and all as he is ; but I suppose it's not 
the poor fellow's fault ! {Looking admiringly in a glass. ) And much as I 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 27 

detest him, I wish he was here now to take down that heavy Columbus, 
there, {pointing at a bronze statue on the mantel-2)iece), that wants to 
be dusted so ! 

Miter Dick, who had beeyi •peeping unnoticed in at the door. 

Dick. And here I am, Susy dear ! for T was just a thinkin' that he 
wanted a dustin', and that you wouldn't be able to take'n down. 
{Going to remove the statue.) 

Susy. {Raising her duster.) Just leave it there, Mr. Tmpiddence ! for 
now that I recollect it, I had it down yesterday ; and besides, you fol- 
lowed me ! And what's more, you took me unawares on the stairs ! 

Dick. Well, Susy dear ! do you take me for a parson as could pass 
such a pair of sweet lips within three inches on him, without tryin' on 
'em with a will ? 

Susy. {EmpihaticaUy.) Dick Whiting, I hate you ! 

Dick. I know, Susy ; but if you don't love any one else, I'm not agoin' 
to gi'd in for that ! 

Susy. {With quickness.) Ha! you monster of jealousy! who else do 
I love that you are hintmg at'? 

Dick. {Coaaingly.) No one in the world, Suky, but your own Dick, 
that'worships the very ground you walk on ; and that, one day or other, 
will make you his wife, in the best silk gown and shawl that's to be 
found in the village. 

Susy. {Busting away.) Don't be so sure of that. Master Whiting ; and 
besides, 1 never intend to marry — lilce my dear, sweet mistress I 

Dick. If you're the purtiest, you're the most provokin'est on 'em ; and 
what would you say, Susy, the next time I went into Lunnon, if you 
heerd on me takin' some one with sweet blue eyes and lovely hair, just 
like your'n, to Greenwich ? 

Susy. {Contemptuonsly.) A fig for your London, Dick! See what it 
has done for Sir Reginald, who now, I hear, is going to ask Miss Alice to 
take his poor wizzen heart oif his hands, that's as hard as a flint and as 
cold as the north pole. But she's not going to have any one, Dick ; al- 
though more's the pity ; for I know of some one and she who would 
make a splendid pair ! 

Dick. I know who you mean, Suky ; and he is summat when com- 
pared with that ugly customer at the Manor, who is now agoin' to have 
the upper hand of the whole on us. 

Susy. (Laying down Iter dnMer.) I only wish you had given him the 
dnibbing you gave that valet of his : for he deserved it richly, for daring 
to give a cut of his whip to you, who never did a wrong act in your life, 
and who is one of the best and most true-hearted lads in the whole of 
Kent {stojyping suddenly., on perceivi?ig Dick's delight), that is, as I have 
heard them say. 

Dick. ( With happy earnestness.) Suky, dear, don't put back the tide 
that was settin' in so strong atords me in your heart ; for, although I'm 



38 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

a poor lad I'm an honest un, and if it pleases you, I'll break every bone 
in Sir Reginald's body the next time I lay my eyes on him near the 
White Hart. 

Susy. {Lnugliing, and with moi^e tenderness.) No ! no ! Dick, you 
mustn't do that ; for they might put you in jail, and then I'd have no 
one to take down Columbus for me ! (Looking at Dick arcldy.) But tell 
me, how did Sir Reginald get the Hermitage into his power ? 

Dick. Well, you know, when the minin' and the other speculations 
failed, the master was obliged to keep morigagin' the property until he 
could raise no more money on it ; when Sir Reginald, as it joined on to 
his own estates, made some sort of a bargain with those as holds the 
mortgages, which are now about run out, that they would turn thera 
over to him, for a certain sum, on which he agreed to pay interest in the 
meantime, when his own property came into his hands. 

SuKY. Yes, and so that he might have a claw on my sweet mistress 
besides ! {Looking out of the window.) But here she is, and her father, 
coming, after their walk, so you must go at once ! They may come up 
here ! 

Dick. (Apjjroaching he?' winningly. ) Well, if I must, I must ! But 
before I go, will you {extending his open arms)., Suky dear ? 

Susy. Dick ! Don't be a fool ! But will you go then ; for I'd almost 
sooner do anything than that you should be found here by them ! 

Dick. On the spot, Suky dear ! 

Suky. Well, don't take me unawares, then ! 

{Dick fimcying he 7iears approaching footsteps, bounds forward., and 
kissing her rapidly., disappears at once. 

Susy. {In feigned surprise.) Well, did your ever ! What a good-for- 
nothing, brazen wretch, not to give me a moment's notice ! It's almost 
as bad as the stairs ! If I don't be even with you next time. Master 
Dick Whiting, I'm not here ! {Looking in the glass. ) See the way he has 
left my cap ! 1 would not let Miss Alice see it in this state for the 
world ! So, as I think I hear her father and herself approaching, I'll 
be oflE and set it to rights in my own chamber. {Exit Susan. 

Enter Alice and Mortimer, conversing. 

Mortimer. Yes, my dear, as I have already told you, he made a most 
ample apology to me in the village, where I happened to encounter him 
accidentally. {Both seat themselves.) 

Alice. But has he made one to Mr. Travers, papa ? 

MoRT. That I cannot say. I may observe, however, that he admitted 
to me his remarks regarding Mr. Travers were quite uncalled for ; and 
further, if I must be more explicit with you, he declared thab he had un- 
fortunately lost his temper when he saw you and the tutor standing 
together at the window on such apparently intimate terms. 

Alice. It seems he was jealous, then ! 

MoRT. So it would appear, my dear. But as he has asked my per- 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 29 

mission, which I accorded, to call again and endeavor to make his peace 
with you personally, you shall learn what he has to say, from his own 
lips. I may, however, as well remark, that I think he intends to pro- 
pose; for he told me, distinctly, that it was his love for you that had 
betrayed him into the excess of which he had been guilty. 

Alice. ( WitJi scornful mhemence^ ruing from her seat.) 
His love I Oh ! can that holiest of words 
Be ever true or bright or pure again 
When once pronounced by such polluted lips ? 
His love ! Oh- ! never has his sordid soul 
Throbbed with a single pulse akin to love, 
Much less with the great ecstasy itself ! 
Whate'er his plea, I never shall be his ! 
E'en though a royal diadem he wore, 
And I but begged my bread from door to door ! 

MoRT. Then are we undone indeed ! for well I know this roof above 
our heads is doomed ! 

Alice. And what of it, papa ? I am young, and, thanks to you and 
my dear sainted mother, I am well educated ; and, even now, am seek- 
ing a situation as governess in some London family ; for I may as well in- 
form you that I have already advertised in two of the most prominent 
journals, and am hourly in expectation of the offer of some engagement. 

MoRT. Alice, dear child, I was not aware of this ! ( With great emotion. ) 
But pray heaven a kind Providence may avert the calamity of our 
separation for even a single day, until it occurs in the ordinary course of 
nature. But although I have hitherto presumed that much that has 
been said of Sir Reginald's character is exaggerated. I must now leave 
you to act for yourself, lest my sore needs warp my judgment. But 
here he comes ! That surely was his voice ! I shall leave you alone. 
May all good angels guide you ! [Exit Mortimer. 

Enter Susan. 

Sus. Sir Reginald Howard, Miss Alice. 

Alice. {Standing with her hand resting on the hack of a cliair, and with 
her head slightly inclined.) Show Sir Reginald in. [Exit Susan. 

Enter Sir Reginald, with wdl-feigned humility. 

Sir Reginald. {Bowing profoundly.) Miss Mortimer, I am here by 
permission of your best friend, your father, so that I may have an oppor- 
tunity of expressing to you personally my deep contrition for the rude- 
ness and injustice into which I allowed my temper to betray me beneath 
this roof so recently, and to ask your forgiveness for the same. 

Alice. {Pointing to a chair at some distance., and seating herself in the 
one by which she had been standing. ) Take a chair. Sir Reginald {he seats 
himself^ bowing)., and let me say, briefly, that, in view of the apology you 
now make, you have my full forgiveness for the offence to which you 
refer, if that avail you anything. 



30 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

Sir Reg. {A little disGoncerted. ) You are generous, Miss Mortimer ; 
but I trust you are not totally insensible of the fact that your good 
opinion avails me much, and that without it I should be the most mis- 
erable fellow alive ! 

Alice. {Calmly.) I said "forgiveness," Sir Reginald ; a word which I 
beg you will weigh in its true balance, and not freight beyond its endur- 
ance ! 

Sir Reg. {With a little tartness.) Well, "forgiveness," if you wiU 
have it so, Miss Mortimer; yet I trust you comprehend that I mean 
something more. 

Alice. In truth. Sir Reginald, I am at a loss to divine what you may 
mean farther ; and the more so, as I have reached the limits of what 
you are good enough to term my generosity. 

Sir Reg. ( With an effort. ) Well, Miss Mortimer, as you do not choose 
to comprehend me, I shall come to the point at once ; and, in fact, may 
as well say that I am persuaded you would make an admirable Lady 
Howard, and as I am now coming into my immense fortune, I am here to 
lay both it and my name at your feet ! {Rlsmg and advancing towards 
Alice, who also rises^ bid with a motion of her Jiandichich arrests him.) 

Alice. ( With comjjosure and distinctness.) You are frank. Sir Regi- 
nald ; and it would be discourteous and disingenuous in me were I to 
say that I am not impressed with the high honor you would confer upon 
me. I must, however, meet you with the openness that your frankness 
deserves, and state at the outset that my heart has already been disposed 
of to another ; so that you may perceive at a glance I can never stand in 
any other relation to you than that which I occupy at the present moment. 

Sir Reg. ( With siqjpressed rage and mortification.) Perhaps, after all, 
fair lady, my wealth and family do not meet your exalted aspirations ! 

Alice. ( Coolly. ) Your family is no better than mine. Sir Reginald ; 
and as for wealth, there are other considerations which I place im- 
measurably above it ! 

Sir Reg. Or perhaps I'm not sufficiently learned or romantic to win 
your fastidious affections ! If so, I shall at once take to books, or twang- 
ing the moonlight guitar at the edge of the wood close by, in worship 
of the inaccessible divinity enshrined here ! 

Alice. {Smiling most jwovokingly .) In good truth. Sir Reginald, any 
change in your occupations and mode of life would be of infinite advan- 
tage to you : although, as for books and music, I fear they are some- 
what out of your line. 

Sir Reg. {Unable to contain himself.) Miss Mortimer will excuse me 
if I am not constrained to take up either for a livelihood ! 

Alice. {Laughing outright.) It is, really, most fortunate for you. Sir 
Reginald ! 

Sib Reg. Indeed ! And why, pray ? 

Alice. {Still laughing.) You must ask some ou© more versed in these 
matters than I, Sir Reginald ! 



NEAKLY A TRAGEDY. 31 

Sir Reginald. That lackey at the Grange, for instance ! 

Alice. ( With bitter hilarity. ) Yes ! if you only have the courage ! 

Sir Reg. {Bounding to his feet.) What do you mean by courage, 
Miss Alice Mortimer ? 

Alice. The meaning is known to every true gentleman ; I'm not sur- 
prised at your query ! 

Sir Reg. (Rushing towards the door,) This second outrage has been 
premeditated, I see ! {Pausing on the tJireshold.) Listen, Alice Mor- 
timer ! Before this coming week closes, you and your father f-hall be 
without house or home, and without a shilling in your pocket, save 
what you may obtain from the hand of charity ! \^Exit Sir Reginald. 

Alice, {/Solus.) Now indeed the die is doubly cast ! {Rings.) 

Enter Susan. 
Sus. Well, Miss Alice, you rang. 
Alice. Yes. Tell papa I'm alone ! {Exit Susan. 

Enter Mortimer. 
MoRT. {Sinking into a chair.) You need not explain, my child ! I 
can divine it all ! Sir Reginald just rushed past me in the hall, with- 
out saying a word, and absolutely thrust me aside out of his way, as 
it were, and disappeared before I could resent the outrage ! 

Alice. {Indignantly.) The coward! The scoundrel! Would that 
Dick or Mr. Travers had witnessed the dastardly act ! 

Mortimer. {Rising. ) But coane, my dear daughter ! the crisis I so 
long dreaded and struggled against is upon us at last ! Let us look 
over those papers I was speaking about. They are in the library ! 

{Exeunt. 
end of act iil 



ACT lY. 



Scene I. — The wood. Dick and Mike meet accidentally. 

Dick. Is that you, Mike? How goes it, lad? Do ee know I've been 
just a thinkin' that's a good job for both on us, as we beant gen'lemen ! 

Mike. {Drawing himself up humorously icith a look of iinporUoice.) 
Mr. Richard WTiitin', Esquire, knight and barrow-knight, answer for 
yourself ! But recollect you're talkin' to an O'G-rady, minny of whose 
relashxms, in the Quid Sod, held high stashuns in Ninety-eight, for at 
laste fifteen minnits by the docther's watch ! 



32 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

Dick. That be a main short while, Mike ; but I suppose it was 
quite long enough for some on 'em. {Laughing.) 

Mike. {Tenderly.) Ah, sure, man alive, that's what makes me so 
melancholy, and fond of a dhrop, wid a bade on it, now and then. But, 
for that matther, I was alwa.ys a tiudher-hearted boy, for often me 
poor mother tould me — the heavens be her bed — that whin I wasn't 
more then five years ould, I'd knock your brains out wid a lump of a 
shtone, if I only saw you but hurtin' a fly ! But, tell me, hadn't yez it, 
down at the Harmitage there, hot and heavy of late ? 

Dick. Ay, sure, lad ; and they all gid it to'n in style. Miss Alice 
turned'n off body and bones, with all his great fortin, and Master Travers 
was near gid'n somethin' wuss then I gid that jimcrack as waits on his 
highness ! 

Mike. The only pity is, that that dancin'-masther of his is so small ; not 
bein' much bigger than that ould gypsy, Meg, that'll do some damage 
here yet, or I'm mistaken ; for Dick, mind you, me boy, her race is not 
to be depinded upon ; although sorra bit of me b'leeves there's a sin- 
gle dhrop of rale gypsy blood in her body. 

Dick. I don't know, Mike, what to make on her, for she beant with 
any tribe, and knows no one here as cares for her, but old granny 
Evans, Nancy's mother, as is yet alive and keeps t'other side of the v'A- 
lage. She picked her up, and lets her stay with her ; for, arter all, a 
woman's a woman and desarvin' of summat more than a man. 

Mike. {Bomantically .) Dick, if my heart wasn't brack thirteen years 
ago by a Limerick girl, I'd agree wid you ; but whin I think of the 
way I was sarved, and the nine months I spint in Clonmel Jail for the 
little difference I had wid the other blaggard that came be tune her and 
me, and that she married th'i <lay afther I was put in, I wondher some- 
times why [ don't bury meself in a monasthry and spind the remaindher 
of me days in pace and plinty ! 

Dick. I'll lay you a wager I know where your comin' from, Mike. 

Mike. Where ? TeU me, avourneen ! 

Dick. From the snares ! 

Mike. How do you know ? 

Dick. There's the foot of a rabbit stickin' out on your pocket ! 

Mike. Blur and turf ! Dick, and so there is ! {Stuffing the foot hastily 
in again.) And it's well you got a peep of it ; for here comes Misther 
Lesther, and I wouldn't for the world that he saw it; for he doesn't 
b'leeve there's an honester fella in the whole county ; and no more 
suspects me of settin' a snare then the man of the moon ! 

Enter Lester /7w?i a bypath^ Dick and Mike touch their hats. 

Dick. Good-mornin', Mr. Lester. Fine day, Mr. Lester. 
Mike. The top o' the mornin' to yer honor, and long life to you ! 
Lester. ( Cheerfully. ) Ah ! Whiting, is that you ? How are Miss 
Alice and Mr. Mortimer ? Well, Mike, how come on the rabbit-pies 



KEARLT A TRAGEDY. 33 

over at the White Hart ? They say you have them every day or so 
now. 

Dick. Master and Miss Alice be main well, Mister Lester, thankee, 
hopin' you're the same. 

Mike. {Aooidmg the alhmon to the iiies.) Yis, indeed, yer honor; 
and wasn't that a narra escape that the sweet young lady had some 
• short time ago ? Her neck was in danger ! 

Lester. [Laughing.) Notin half so much danger, I fancy, Mike, as 
the necks of some of the poor rabbits about here. But you have not 
told me how the pies come on. 

Mike. Ah! the Lord love you, Misther Lesther! audit's you that 
will have your joke ; although, of coorse, there's minny a thing bilt, 
baked, and roasted over there, that poor Mike O'Grrady knows little 
about ! 

Lester. Very likely, Mike ! In fact, I suppose you have never set 
a snare in this wood, nor seen a rabbit, nor tasted a bit of a rabbit-pie 
since you came to the White Hart ! 

Mike. {Musingly. ) Now stop ! Let me see, Misther Lesther ! I don't 
want to tell a lie ! Yis, now that I remimber it, we had a pie, I think, 
about four year ago, out of a present that was made by some one or 
other to Misther Capon ; and, sthrange enough it was, that the only 
rabbit I ever recollect seein' in this place, I saw the very day afther, 
crossin' the road outside the wood there. 

{Here Dick, perceiving the leg of the rahhit again protruding froin 
Mike's pocket, begins to gesticulate warningly to him., and laughs 
out 7%ght, as he does not take the hint. ) 

Lester. Whiting seems amused at your story, Mike, and so am I : 
but what is this? {Catching a glimpse of the leg of the rabbity and 
draioing out the whole animal., lohich he Jwlds up before Mike.) Eh ! 
Mike ! 

Mike. {Turning suddenly round to Dick, in feigned astonishment min- 
gled with admiratioro. Lifting his hands. Laughing spasmodically .\ 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! — Well ! if that doesn't bate all ! How the divil did he 
get it in there, Misther Lesther, without my knowin' it? {Looking 
amazed., round at his pocket., and thrusting one hand into it.) Ah ! but 
you're the play boy. ( Turning to Dick, who enjoys the whole affair. ) 
And that's what you were laughin' at, and no wondher; for it's the 
cleverest thrick that ever was played on me ! But I see through it all ! 

Lester. {Still holding up the rabbit., and amused beyond measure. 
Turning to Dick. ) Well, Whiting, it appears that you're the culprit in 
this case. 

Dick. Well, Mr. Lester ! Dash my 

Mike. {Suddenly interrupting him.) Now, Dick, teU the thruth ! But 
hould your tongue and let me do it for you ! Well, you see [address- 
ing Lester), Misther Lesther, he always threatened to have a joke on 
mc about a rabbit at the expinse of me karracther ; knowin' how hou 
2* 



34 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

est I was, as well as partiklar, swarin' that he'd prove, some time or 
other, that I knew more about the poor innocent cratshures in the 
wood here, then I let on. 

Dick. {In amazement.) Oh! Mike! 

Mike. {Hastily clapping his hand on Dick's mouth.) Hould your 
tongue now, 'till I'm done ! I'm sure Misther Lesther will forgive you, 
and so will I; for it's nothin' afther all! Well, sir, you see {turns 
to Lester), he was boastin' yestherday of a fine rabbit that he was made 
a present of in the village : so, sez he, last night when it rained so hard, 
and we were takin' somethin' together over at the White Hart, will 
you lind me the loan of that coat of your's, for mine is so thin, and I'll 
bring it up in the momin' when I'm goin' to the Grange ? And wel- 
come, sez I^ never suspectin' anythin'. So, not five mimiits ago, while 
I was looking about here for them turkeys of ours, in my shirt sleeves, 
I meets him wid the coat on his arm ; and, puttin' it on me without 
noticiu' anythin' wrong, will you b'leeve me, Misther Lesther, that, 
only for you, I might have taken that fine, fat rabbit home without 
my knowin' a haporth about it, whin he'd pull it out of my pocket be- 
fore the whole of them, and have a nice laugh at me, that was always 
so much agin poachin' or even handlin' a snare ! 

Lester. {Laughing heartily at Mike's innocent countenance and inge- 
nuity. ) Here, Mike, take the rabbit ! You deserve it ! I wonder how 
they ever manage to hang one of your countrymen. {Hands the rabbit 
to Mike, who takes it. ) 

Mike, Thankee, Misther Lesther, and now that I have come by it 
honestly, I'll enjoy a bit of it ! 

Dick. {In utter astonish7nent.) Well, dash my buttons ! if ever 

Mike. {Again interrupting him.) Och ! man, where' s the use of sayin' 
any more on the subject ? Sure naither Misther Lesther or me thinks 
anythin' about it! It was only a joke; and I will say that the divil 
a betther one was ever played on honest Mike O'Grady I Come along, 
and help me to look afther them turkeys. 

Lester. {Turning away and resuming his walk.) And the snares, 
Mike! {Oood humor ediy.) 

Mike. Oh ! IVIisther Lesther, you needn't hint that to him ; for Fm 
sure he came by the rabbit honestly ! Come along, Dick ! 

[^Exeunt. All disappear among the trees. 



Scene ll.~Private apartment in the Manor. Sir Reginald ^acm^ it 
with a dissatisfied air. 

Sir Reg. So she has shown her hand at last, in a manner not to be 
mistaken, and has absolutely ventured to make me a subject of ridicule to 
my very face ! Well, I think I shall be even with her yet, and the low- 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 35 

born lackey who has dared to step between us ! I have seen her adver- 
tisement, and have written this letter {taking a letter from a table and 
glancing at the superscription) to Letitia, 84 Clifford street, London; 
directly opposite where those close-fisted, beggarly solicitors live. She 
shall answer this advertisement instantly, as I have here instructed her, 
and betray this prolid beauty into her establishment, on the plea of need- 
ing- her services as a governess. She is to entice her to town at once, 
by intimations of the most liberal character, and, when once beneath 
her roof, detain her, at all hazards, until I drop in on her accidentally, 
which, rely upon it, will be a very few minutes after her arrival ! I 
shall look to that part of the business ! If I happen to discover her 
there, it will be no fault of mine ! When she finds where she is, perhaps 
she may come to terms and accept my hand ; for now I swear I could 
marry her, if only to be avenged of her for the manner in which she has 
sneered at me ! Letitia knows what she's about ! So that if this 
supercilious beggar does not consent to become mine in the bonds of 
wedlock, which I shall make heavy, galling chains to her, she shall re- 
turn to the Hermitage with a cloud on her fair fame at least ; for I shall 
disclose, adroitly, where I happened to find her ! But Lightf oot knows 
all about it ; I have already taken him into my confidence on the subject. 
{Mings.) 

Enter Tony. 

Tony. (Bowing,) What's your pleasure, Sir Reginald ? 

Sir Reg. This is the letter, Lightf oot. {Handing it to him.) You pro- 
ceed to 84 with it at once. Don't spare horseflesh. You can be there 
in a couple of hours. Be sure and tell Letitia to make liberal promises. 
I have told her to write while you remain, so that you may mail the let- 
ter for the Hermitage yourself. 

Tony. I understand. Sir Reginald ; and know the road pretty well. 
The letter in answer to the . advertisement will be here within a few 
hours, perhaps as soon as I am myself ; and of course they will be on the 
lookout at the Hermitage, now, for every mail. 

Sir Reg. But be careful, Lightfoot, that no one knows you have left 
for town. In fact, you must so disguise yourself before you leave the 
Manor, that even I should not know you if I happened to meet you on 
the highway. Be cautious, Lightfoot ! Remember the White Hart ! 
and recollect there is not a minute to lose ! 

Tony. In ten minutes from this, Sir Reginald, I shall be on the road, 
as honest a looking countryman as ever you laid your eyes on ; and, rely 
upon it, no grass shall grow under my horse's feet. [Exit Tony. 

Sir Reg. {Solus.) That Lightfoot is invaluable to me! It is well 
thnt he is as true as steel ! If he were not, he might embarrass me 
notwithstandrag all my rank and wealth ! There are one or two little 
things that he knows of ! Well, it was his hand, not mine, that did the 
work ! Pshaw ! What a pretty thing to be thinking of just now, with . 
the hour of my triumph at hand ! And besides, supposing this selfsame 



36 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

Miss Mortimer does make a fuss ; what business had she to be in such 
a place ? Why, the thing is as plain as a pikestaff ; and with Letitia and 
Lightfoot, as well as my fortune and title, at my back, I can bid her 
defiance. But I must now seek some retired place in the open air, and 
test my voice with that speech of mine, which I have committed to 
memory, and am to deliver from the Manor steps, *for the benefit of 
those vulgarians and others who are constrained to assemble in my honor, 
before a great many suns have set ! [£Jxit Sir B-EGmAiiD. 



Scene III. — T7ie Hermitage. Alice and Travers conversing on the 
moonlit la ion. 

Travers. Yes ! dearest, your father, like yourself, has generously con- 
sented to sacrifice so much worth and beauty to so much poverty. Of 
course, I shall feel deeply our temporary separation ; but London, be- 
loved, is not at the antipodes ; and I shall write daily and see you often, 
until our fortunate star peeps above the horizon. 

Alice. My hope, dear Stanhope, is, that you shall soon be able to pro- 
cure some position in town, which, united with mine, if this letter I 
have just received lead to an engagement, may enable us to make some 
provision for my poor father, who is now sorely tried indeed, and no 
longer young. 

Travers. It shall be my fii-st care, dearest ; and, as you are aware, I 
shall be in the city, and at the house of the solicitors I spoke of, I may 
be able to obtain some information on this all-important point from 
some of these gentlemen. 

Alice. You leave early to-morrow with Mr. Lester, he informs me. 
The Doctor and I start in the afternoon, as he cannot be ready sooner. 
You will all three meet at your friends, jvhile poor I shall have a soli- 
tary tete-a-tete with my crusty old aunt, after I have seen the people at 
No. 84, which Mr. Lester informs me must be nearly or quite opposite 
the solicitors ; so that, after all, I may get a glimpse of you. The Doc- 
tor will drop me at the door of Mrs. Mayfield, as she signs herself ; from 
whence, after seeing the lady, I shall proceed to my aunt's residence. 
No. 160, close by, where you can call upon me early the next morning, 
and learn how I have succeeded, as, before returning to the Hermitage, 
I shall remain a day or two with my aunt. 

Travers. I shall fly to you early, and learn how it has fared with 
you. But remember, dearest, we are now all pledged to stand by Mr. 
Lester on the day he gives up his trust to this Howard, and that as, 
under any circumstance, you will be obliged to return to the Hermitage 
immediately, you must manage to be among the ladies present on the 
occasion. 

Alice. Then you approve fully my intention of accepting this posi- 
tion, should I find it a desirable one ? 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 37 

Traters. ( With warmth and emphans^ while gasing lovingly on Alice.) 
Yes, dearest, I applaud that high resolve 
To seize th e adverse spokes in Fortune's wheel, 
And struggle to arrest their fatal course. 
E'en with these fingers now so soft and fair, 

( Takes her fingers fondly). 
That Labor's self might almost blush to soil ! 
Wealth is not necessarily happiness ! 
Oft the true palace has a sanded floor ; 
AMiile Greatness in a gilded hovel pines, 
Where the tossed pillow never shows at dawn 
The one deep impress left by sweet repose. 
In the stem school in which I have been taught, 
I've learned to love the humbler walks of life ; 
Although Ambition sometimes will intrude, 
And almost scale the bulwarks of my peace. 

Alice. How truly do you say, " Wealth is not necessarily happiness." 
And why ? Because it cannot purchase peace of mind or love ! If we 
are poor, Stanhope, when we are made one in the sight of heaven we 
shall be no poorer ; for I trust we have within us that which is beyond 
all riches ! But where, if this moment you had the power of a magi- 
cian, would you make our home ? 

Trayers. ( With passionate inspiration, while gently relinquishing her 
hand.) 

Beside some winding river that is flowing 

Clear, cool, and gently through a sunny vale, 

As though it were a liquid west-wind blowing 

A sort of luscious, lazy, silvery gale 

Between two odorous banks with cowslips glowing 

In knots of tangled gold, deep-tinged and pale, 

And mom-tipped daisies, sprinkling brakes of wildwood — 

The fairy haunts of memory, love, and childhood : 

There, in a nook, with beauty ever beaming — 

A mine of woodland jewels, lit with showers 

That leave the wooded dell with incense teeming, 

As though it were the passion-time of flowers — 

A nook where Autumn nods in golden dreaming. 

And blue-eyed Spring comes in her first bright hours, 

Tripping along to robin-redbreast measures. 

Beneath a fragrant store of primrose treasures — 

A sylvan temple on whose em'rald altar 

Sweet Xature spreads her offerings to the Sun, 

VNTiile thrill the raptures of her warbling psalter, 

Not doling out her riches one by one 

With a spare hand that ever seems to falter, 

But letting them in wild profusion run. 



38 KEAKLY A TRAGEDY. 

As though her laj> were heaped with each rare token, 
And on that spot her apron-strings had broken ! 
Alice. {Enraptured.) Oh ! dearest, dearest Stanhope, Tm en- 
chanted. 

TiiAVERS. ( Continm'ng. ) 

Be patient ! In this dewy glimpse of Aidenn, 
In a sweet Httle gypsy of a cot, 
White as a dove, low-eaved, and woodbine-laden — 
A sort of thatch-and-stone ' ' Forget-me-not " — 
There should we make our home. 
Alice. {Moved to ecstasy.) Cease ! dearest, cease ! 
Such eloquence and dreams o'erpower my soul ! 
And more — thou hast reversed ambition's flight. 
And turned it downwards, till mine eyes have caught 
The silv'ry down, 'neath its descending wing. 
From which far softer pillows may be made 
Than from the harsh ascending upper plumes ! 
But wheresoe'er thy footsteps soon may lead. 
Mine shall their faithful shadow ever be. 
And though I leave thee now, for a brief space, 
To mingle with the city's busy throng, 

I leave my heart with thee 

Travers. Beloved one ! 
And, in return, fill the sweet void with mine 
Which, like the dove that left the ark of yore, 
Has now gone forth, to dwell with me no more ! 

Alice. Come, let us return to my father. We have yet much to speak 
of. {Taking Travers' s arm.) 

Travers. As you will, dearest ! [Exeunt. They enter the Hermitage. 



Scene IV. — The White Hart. Enter Mike, emerging from the door 
loith some snares and a rabbit-skin in his hands. 

Mike. (Holding up the skin and admiring it. ) Oh ! but you were the 
bevAi^y ! Four pounds and three- quarthers and spatther'd wid fat ! Let 
me see ! Not countin' hares or parthridges, I think this is ! — No ! — 
Yis ! — There was seven the week afore last ! and then three times nine 
is forty-two ! Och ! what am I ravin' about ? Thirty-six, I mane ! 
Begorra, I was near forgettin' my multiplicashun table ! Howsomever, 
it's no matther. I had my share of them ; and will give them a partin' 
salute wid these {shaking the snares)., for I suppose that we'll all soon 
have to bid good-by to the wood, as well as the White Hart. 
Enter Dick. 

Dick. I thought you was talkin' to some one, Mike, for I heerd your 
voice just now. 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 39 

Mike. And so I was, me bouchal ! and to a very great friend of mine, 
the two first letthers of whose name is Mike O'Grady. 

Dick. {Pointing to the rabbit-skin.) Was he fat ? 

Mike. (Holding tip the skin.) It's my belief that it was his fat 
choked him, instead of the snare ! But what news have you for me ? 

Dick. Good news, Mike. Miss Alice has got a fine situation in Lon- 
don, or at least she's sure to get'n ; for a letter has corned, and she's 
goin' up this evenin' to see about'n. Suky says the letter is very civil, 
and tells her to call, no matter how late she may get into the city. She 
will stop at her aunt's, the proud old lady's ; but won't go see her until 
she knows all about the situation and makes the bargain, for the mas- 
ter says she'll be again her goin' out as a governess ; and try and per- 
suade her off it, unless she tells her everything is settled and no backin' 
out. The Doctor is goin' into the city, and will drive her to the number 
that's on the letter, somewhere in Clifford street, and but a short dis- 
tance from her aunt's. But it seems to me as if everybody was a goin' in 
to-day, for I just heerd that Mr. Lester and Master Travers are a goin'. 
I suppose JVIr. Lester wants to see the solicitors afore he gives the 
estates up to Sir Reginald. 

Enter Capon. Standing in the doorioay. 

Capon. I heerd what you say regardin' Miss Alice and the rest on 
'em, Dick, and suppose this is the beginnia' of the grand break up ! 
Well, wherever she may go, she has the good-will and the blessin' of old 
Ned Capon ; for a sweeter creetur doesn't walk in shoe-leather to-day. 

Mike. {Half seriously .) Be the mortial man! I feel as if I could 
crunch a pound of cast-steel betune me jaws ! I tell you what ! I 
have lived here for a good minny years, and feel a little soft about 
laviu'. What, then, must Misther Capon there feel, who was born be- 
nathe this very roof, and who lost all that was near and dear to him 
undher it ? Begorra ! I have a grate noshun, no matther what comes of 
me, to give the Docthor a job at the Manor, before the goin's on com- 
minces, near as we're to them ! 

Dick. There's no use in that, Mike ! It will not make things better. 
But, as I feel warm and weary and thirsty, let us all go in and try a 
mug of ale ; for I suppose we shan't be able to take many more together 
in the White Hart. {Exeunt. 



Scene V. — Letitia's House., London. A showily furnished a^mrtment 

in it. 
Voice. ( Without.) This way, miss ! This way, if you please, while I 
take your card to my mistress. 

Enter Alice, in a travelling dress. 
Alice. ( With surprise and disappointment.) Altogether too showily 
dressed a servant, I should say ! I trust she does not reflect the taste 



40 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

of her mistress in any degree ! (Looking about her uneasily.) But, 
really, there seems to be a good deal of expensive vulgarity displayed 
here ! I don't like the place ! The air is oppressive, and I fear I shall 
never be able to make common cause with those who are content to 
breathe it habitually. {Takes a seat beside a table U2Jon ic/dch, amongst 
other things^ there lies a book marked imth a small^ pearl-handled dagger^ 
vsed as a pasper -knife. Opens the book and reads.) *' The Phantom 
Highwayman, or the Blood-stained Hand. A Tragedy ! " ( Turns ocer 
a few leaves and reads again.) " And stabs the false Belinda to the 
heart ! " ( Wldle replacing the dagger, closing the book, and laying it doion 
again.) " Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! " The home of the 
sensational drama also ! Ah ! Mrs. Mayfield {shaking her head and smil- 
ing languidly)^ I fear our acquaintance will be of but very short dura- 
tion indeed ! However, we shall see. {Hears sounds of approaching 
footsteps. ) But here she comes, I presume ! 

Enter Letitia, extravagantly and gaudily dressed. 

Letitia. {Advancing familiarly.^ while Alice rises., and extending her 
hand cm'dially.^ which Alic;e takes coldly. ) Miss Mortimer, let me give you 
welcome, my dear ! I am glad my note found you so speedily, and that 
you are now here. It was very kind of you, my dear, to pay such 
prompt attention to it. 

Alice. Thauk you, Mrs. Mayfield. As the affair was one of business, 
I considered it best to dispose of it at once. 

Letitia. ( Winningly. ) It was very good of you, my dear ; but as 
you must be slightly fatigued, at least won't you lay your bonnet aside 
and allow me to offer you a glass of wine before we speak on other mat- 
ters? 

Alice. {With growing suspicion.) No, thank you, I am not fatigued 
in the slightest. I am now on my way to my aunt's, and have only been 
JTist dropped here to apprise you of my arrival, as you expressed a 
desire I should do so the moment I reached the city. 

Letitia. {Eagerly.) And is your carriage waiting, my dear ? 

Alice. Oh ! no. I came up with a friend of our family ; and have 
now only a very short distance to walk. 

Letitia. {With iU-bred persistency.) Then, my dear, let me prevail 
on you to take even a single sip of wine, as your spirits seem some- 
what depressed, and as it wiU cheer you while we make arrangements 
as to salary nnd so forth. 

Alice. {Immovably and with some disgust.) You really must excuse 
me, IVIrs. Mayfield. {A new idea striking her.) And you will conceive, 
readily, that before I can enter into any final arrangement in this mat- 
ter, I shall first have to consult my aunt. We shall both, however, call 
upon you in the morning. 

Letitia. ( With a gesture of impatience and a sudden alteration of 
voice. ) I should suppose. Miss Mortimer, that there is but very little to 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 41 

consult your aunt about in this case. You advertised for a situation as 
governess in a respectable family, and, I presume, before you did so, 
you had made up your mind pretty fully to accept the position when it 
offered. 

Alice. {Annoyed and slightly alarmed.) Very true, madam, but it 
may not follow that I shall snatch at the first that happens to be pre- 
sented for my acceptance ! In the meantime, hovvever {risinxj)., and 
while thanking you for the preference you have given me, I shall take 
my leave, and consult with my relative on the subject. 

Letitia. {Rising also. Aside. ) Yoa are not gone yet, my pretty 
dear! {To A1.ICE, with feigned carelessness.) Well, Miss Mortimer, I 
hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you and your aunt to-morrow. 
But, before you go, will you allow me to ask you if you know a lady in 
your village named — named — {Pauses and reflects far an instant. Sud- 
denly.) Oh ! will you excuse me for a single moment? I have got it 
on my tablets in the next room. 

Alice. Certainly ! 

Letitia. Thank you ! {Aside.) I wish you had tasted that wine ! 
[Exit Letitia, closing the door behind her. 

Alice. {Solus.) I have been ill at ease! Yes, and am so still! 
There is something about this Mrs. Mayfield that I do not like ! Some- 
thing that excites suspicion and disgust ! Yes, and even creates 
alarm! I. shall never be tempted to accept any engagement at her 
hands ! Her dress and manners are not those of a lady ; and every- 
thing about this place [looking around her) exhales a strange, sickly 
odor which almost overjiowers me ! But why does she delay ? I am 
anxious to regain the open air ! How oppressive this apartment is be- 
coming. I shall open the door and leave it ajar until she returns, so 
that I may breathe more freely. {A2)proaches the door., but starts in the 
wildest horror and dismay on finding it securely locked or fastened on the 
outside. ) Great God 1 I am locked in ! I am lost ! {Flies to the icin- 
dows, in a state of terrible excitement, but finds them secured with 
iron bars.) Iron bars ! Help! Help! Oh, God ! I've been betrayed ! 
Help! Help! {Cries aloud.) 

Enter Sir Reginald, on tiptoe., through a secret door., toJiich., unjjer- 

ceived by Alice, ojjens and closes softly beJiind him in the wainscot. 

Sir Reginald. {^Yith a leer of triumph.) Help is at hand ! (Alice 
starts at the sound of his voice, and perceives him icith a look of horror 
and dismay ; while he in feigned astonishment recognizes her., as it were., 
for the first time. ) What ! Is it you ? 

Alice. {Fathoming the plot in a moment.) Merciful heaven ! I see 
it all ! Foul villain ! this is your hellish work ! Help ! Help ! ( Cries 
aloud. ) 

Sir Reg. {Advancing stealthily towards her., with a fiendish smile. ) 
Be reasonable, sweet angel 1 Be reasonable. It is all over with you ! 



40 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

I have found you here, and that's all I know about it ! You may 
cease your cries ! This is the rear of the house ! 

Alice. ( With frenzied teliemence. ) Miserable dastard ! Is this the 
means you have taken to gratify your g-rovelling spirit of revenge ? 
Whatever my fate, swift retribution will overtake you, and consign you 
to the felon's doom you deserve ! Disgraceful monster ! ( With ineffable 
scorn and disgnst.) 

Sir Reg. {Drojyping all disgmse and bounding toicards her.) By 
heaven ! your doom is sealed, whatever may be mine ! 

(At the same moment^ Alice, catching a glimpse of the handle of the 

dagger^ snatches the loeapon from the book and brandishes it above 

her head just as Sir Reginald is about to lay hold of her.) 

Alice. {Fiercely.) Back ! dog ! or I'll strike jow. dead at my feet ! 

(Sir Reginald recoils from the threatened bloic, astounded. Before 

lie recovers JmyiseJf Alice dai'ts to mie of the windows., breaks a 

pane of glass with the handle of the dagger .^ and cries anew for help.) 

Sir Reginald. {Looking hastily about, as if in search of some weapon. ) 

By heaven ! I must put an end to this ! What a fury ! They'll hear 

her in the alley ! Curse that dagger >. What noise is that ? {Hearts 

voices and hurrying footsteps on the stairs.) By the God above me I am 

foiled ! I must fly ! ( Springs for the secret door ; but before he reaches 

it Travers, Lester, and the Doctor burst into the apartment. The 

tico latter dash fonvard to seize him., but., having only got a glimp)se of his 

back, he disappears through the wainscot without being recognized by 

them. In the meantime Travers, with extended arms., rushes toicards 

Alice, who totters towards him.. ) 

Travers. {Frantically.) Alice! Alice! we but this moment learned, 
at the solicitors', the character of this house ! 

Alice. {Dropping the dagger.^ and while falling insensible into his 
arms. ) I am saved ! 

(Lester and the Doctor advancing towards Travers, whx) stands 
supporting Alice in his arms., bending over her. ) 
Lp:ster. {In a state of great excitement. ) He has escaped, whoever 
he may be ! 

Doctor. {Bewildered am,d agitated.) Yes! Through that secret door ! 
But I think I've seen that figure more than once ere this ! 

END of act IV. 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 43 



ACT Y. 

Scene I. — Servants' room in the Hermitage. Dick Whiting, with a 
perplexed exjjression of countenance, standing with one hand in his 
trousers'' pockety and leaning on a table with the other. 

Dick. There's summat up ! Master away at daybreak this mornin', 
with Mr. Lester, as must have come back some time durin' the night ! 
There's summat up ! Ay, and more than summat ! For Giles Good- 
win told me but now, as how he met Gypsy Meg and Sarah Waters in 
the city lately, in Clifford street. There's summat up ! That there be ! 

Enter Susan. 

Susan. What's the matter Dick ? The old housekeeper says you 
have been talking away to yourself for the last ten minutes. 

Dick. {Brightening up.) Well, Susy dear, I was just thinkin' there's 
summat up ; for the master has started off in a hurry with Mr. Lester 
to Lunnon, where Miss Alice, sweet creetur, is, as well as the Doctor 
and Master Travers, and where Giles Goodwin, as has just told me, met 
Gypsy Meg and Sarah Waters one arternoon, a few days since. 

Susy. That does look strange, Dick ; and I hope nothing has happened 
to my dear mistress, that I have been crying my eyes out about ! 
But I know there hasn't ; for I heard Mr. Lester telling master in the 
hall, just as they were starting, that they'd all be back the day after 
to-morrow, to attend the fete the day following, when Sir Reginald 
comes into his estates, although, if I was Mss Alice, I wouldn't go a 
step ! 

Dick. I know, Susy ; but then, you see, everybody is a goin' to hear 
what Mr. Lester says, and out of friendship for him only. And besides, 
I think most on 'em want to listen to the terrible ratin' he is goin' to 
give Sir Reginald afore he puts'n in possession of the papers. 

Susy. W^hat are you going to do, Dick, when we all leave the Hermi- 
tage ? 

Dick. {Lovingly and manfully .^ Susy, I be young, and have a stout 
arm, a clear conscience, and a heart as loves you bravely ! I have, be- 
sides, sweet dear ! eighteen pound five shillin's, without a dirty sixpence 
in it, as I have saved up for both on us ; and what more does any one 
want to begin the world on ? 

Susy. {With hesitation.) Dick, I wonder you think so much of me 
who worries and plagues you so ! 

Dick. ( With sudden energy.) Think so much on you ! Look here, 
Susy ! {Thrusting his hand into his hosom and drawing some things from 
it, which he places on the table before her.) Them's what I wear next 
mj heart ! 



44 NEAKLY A TRAGEDY. 

Susy. {TaMng the articles up in the order in iDhich she names them, 
and mewing each with surprise and emotion. ) Good gracious ! One of my 
old gloves that I missed nearly a year ago ! {turning to the audience) — 
a bit of cherry ribbon that 1 thought I lost in the wood last sximmer ! — 
one of my side-combs ! and half a dozen of my hair-pins tied together ! 
Ah! Dick. {Tenderly.) Such love as this overpowers me ! I feel 1 am 
scarcely worthy of it, and that it is now my time to ask you. ( Opening 
her arms and extending them towards him.) Will you, Dick? {Dick 
bounds forward., and they embrace affectionately.) 

Dick. {Joyously.) Susy, you have made a man on me ! I am as strong 
as a giant ! 

Susy. {Archly.) Well, if you are, Dick, come and take down that 
Columbus for me, for I am going to dust the room, and fear that I 
should find it heavier then ever this morning. 

Dick, Dear Susy, I'm ready to take'n down if he was a ton weight ! 

[Exeunt. 



Scene II. — At the door of the White Hart. Mike and Capon in deep 
conversation ; Mike gesticulating excitedly. 

Mike. Blur alive ! And it's marr'ed you say they are, Misther 
Capon ! 

Capon. Ay ; sure Mike ! Marr'ed ! She's IVIistress Travers this 
momin' ! So Dick has told me. Bless her sweet soul ! 

Mike. Be the powers of pewther ! I'm glad of it! Now, the joker 
at the Grange will have to mind his P's and Q's or else get his jacket 
dusted, besides bein' cut clear and clane out ! But wasn't it very 
suddent ? 

Capon. It was main sudden ; but, you see. Miss Alice was betrayed 
into some place in the city as wasn't right ; and thinkin' that her good 
name might suffer by it, she was breakin' her heart, when Mr. Travers, 
to show what he thought on't, would marry her on the spot. So Mr. 
Mortimer was come for post-haste, and gid her away in presence of 
her aunt, the two solicitors and the Doctor and Mr. Lester, who corned 
for'n. But they don't want it spread for a day or two, for Mr. Travers 
still keeps on at the Grange. But I knew summat wonderful had taken 
place, because Miss Alice didn't take the governess situation, and I 
never seed her father so cheery for years ! Mike, if I beant mistakin 
there's been queer goin's on in Lunnon within the last week or so, for 
I heerd privately, not an hour agone, as Gypsy Meg and Sarah Waters 
were seed there lately : ay ! lad, and comin' out of the solicitors', too, 
with the Doctor and Mr, Lester ! Isn't it surprisin' ? 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY, 45 

Mike. Is that all you call it ? Surprisin' ! Why there's nothin' in the 
Irish Rogues and Rapparies to aquei it ! . 

Capon. Susy told me as she heerd Master Travers, when he corned 
home, swearin' vengeance against'n, and that, near as it was to his 
birthday, he'd gid'n a horsewhippin', and may be get a warrant again'n 
besides, for summat he did ; although I hear the Doctor and Mr. 
Lester begs on him to do nothin' to'n until the fete ; which makes me 
think that, may be, if he has done anythin' serious, they may have a 
warrant to clap on'n before all the people, with a good trouncm' at 
its back ! But, whether they clap a warrant on'n or not, no good can 
come on'n in the end ; for, as I often said, he's a bad'n as ever water 
wet ! 

Mike. Oh ! then, sure no one of common sinse ought to attimpt to 
keep back the batin', whatever they might do wid the warrant; that 
wouldn't spile for a day or two; for, sure you know as well as I do that 
a batin' gets stale if it's kept a single hour, not to spake of a couple 
of days ! But I must go in and get my snares ready; for Dick promised 
to help me to set them in the wood to-night. 

Capon. Mike, take my advice and have nothin' more to do with them 
snares of your'n now; for. recollect, if Sir Reginald gets you into his 
clutches you won't get out on 'em so easy. 

Mike. Masther, dear, if I was to swing for it, I'll give them one thrial 
more, and that will be this very night, wid the help of the Lord and 
my own exarshuns. But, here's the Docther. [Exit Mike. 

Enter Doctor Harley, 

Doctor. Well, Ned, I suppose you've heard the news from Whiting or 
some of them ! If you have, you must keep it close till to-morrow after- 
noon. I have just called bo tell you to bring some of the neighbors 
with you to the fete to-morrow ; for, after all, the people appear un- 
willing to turn out. 

Capon. So I have heerd, Doctor, I may get some on 'em to go ; but I 
know they don't like it; he has been such a precious bad un ! 

Doctor. Well ! well ! Ned, we all know that ! But it is not 
out of compliment to him, you know, but to Mr. Lester, whom 
wc all like ; and, besides, among some other few gentry, the young 
bride and bridegroom are going, to listen to the drubbing he'll get 
when Mr. Lester begins to speak, whom I am now just on my way to 
call upon. 

Capon. Doctor, its wonderful altogether ! Only think on't, Miss Alice 
and Master Travers man and wife ! 

Doctor. It's true, Ned, I was by when the knot was tied. But I 
must now be off ! Don't fail us to-morrow about eleven. 

[Exit Doctor. 

Capon. {Admiringly looking after the Doctor. ) Ay, he's a good'n ! 



46 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

But I must now go in and see what they are doin' ; for the nearer I get 
to leavin' these dear old walls, the more precious they grow in my eyes. 

{Enters the inn.) 



Scene JU. — The wood, at dmk. Enter Dick and Mike, approaching 
each other from oppodte points ; Mike with some rabbit-snares and 
strong lohipcord across his arm. 

Dick. Here I be, Mike ! {They shake Jiands.) Be you one on 'em as 
is swored in ? 

Mike. Of coorse I am, ma bouchal ! and it's a magisthrate theyll make 
me yet, instead of a speshul constable, like you are now yourself, to help 
the two rale ones from the village keep the pace to-morrow, at the gath- 
erin' over at the Manor ; although the divil resaive the bit of me waa 
ever able to keep it very well on me own account, lettin' alone that of 
others. 

Dick. Yes, they be afeard that this great heir might get down some 
ragrramuffins from Lunnon to hiss Mr. Lester ; although it would be 
rather a ticklish job to hiss'n about these parts ! Sir Reginald, I heerd, 
has been in the Manor a good bit of the day, a gettin' off that great 
speech of his'n, and throwin' his arms about like a windmill. 

Mike. Oh ! dear ! I suppose he'll bate Billy Pitt out and out ! But, 
afther all, Dick, let me tell you that one of these got-off speeches, like a 
parrot, has no more strinth or heart in it than an ounce of bohay afther 
the third dhrawin' ! 

Dick. Are there many swored in besides us, for I haven't heerd ? 

Mike. 'Faix I b'leeve there is; but the joker at the Manor doesn't 
know a word of it, for no one about here would tell him or Tony any- 
thin' — the cutthroats ! {Suddenly seizes Dick by the arm and points to- 
icards something in the distance.) See! Isn't that the long cloak and 
red hankercher of Gypsy Meg among the threes j^ondher ? 

Dick. That it be, sure. Mite! I wonder what she's prowlin' about 
here now for ? 

Mike. Nothin' good, I'll warrant you ! She's comin' this way ; let us 
slip behind this three, and take off our shoes. We'U make less noise 
when we're settin' the snares ! 

Dick. No, she beant; she has disappeared again; but as you say, 
let's take off our shoes and leave them at the root of this tree until we 
return. ( 'They take off their shoes, and listen from behind the tree far a 
moment. ) 

Mike. Softly ! Dick, there's some one comin' up the path on the 
other side ! Let us lie down ! Maybe its the gamekeeper ! 

Dick. {Peering through the twilight.) No, it beant ! I see'n! It's 
Master Travers comin' from the Hermitage and goin to the Grange. 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY, 47 

Don't you hear'n hiimmin' a tune ? Let us be still. I don't want'n to 
see us. here at this hour ! 

Mike. Yis, I hear him now. He's happy, Dick ; and what often 
brakes my heart is, that I didn't finish that fella that took the Limerick 
girl from me, and ind my days airly like a good minny of my f rinds and 
family ! 

(Travers now reaches the point where tliey stand concealed. When 

close bedde them., still liumming., unconscious of danger., a figure 

in a long gray cloak and red headdress glides stealthily from 

avnong the trees behind him, and steals noiselessly after Idm^ with 

a long knife raised as if ready to strike. Dick and Mike 

hound forward.^ and are just in time to arrest the murderous 

stroke ; hut not before a slight flesh-wound is inflicted upon 

■ Travers, who turns suddenly rounds and in the surprise and 

confusion of the moment., heliemng himself to be assailed by three 

assasins, cries, ^'' Ilelp ! Murder!'''' ichile Dick and Mu^f. seize 

and overpower the intending assassin and possess themselves of 

the knife. 

Mike. Don't be alarmed, Misther Thravers. It's Dick and Mike that's 

at your bade ! and that has just caught the arm of this she-divil as she 

was about to lave your noggin' and spoon idle ! But we have nabbed her 

as nate and as clane as a whissel ! — the gintle and tinder-hearted sowl! 

Dick. Are ee hurt. Master Travers ? Are ye hurt ? 

Travers. {Recognizing them botb. while they cling to the prisoner., who 

struggles to escape from them.') Only a mere scratch, "Whiting! Only 

a mere scratch, kind friends ! 

Mike. Glad I'm of it, Misther Thravers ! But hould this knife, if 
you plaze (hands the knife), for this sweet tulip of a gypsy — this 
bevvtiful Meg, that I always knew was cut out for the gallis, is gettin' a 
little throublesome ! 

Travers. Good friends, you are mistaken ! Whoever this unfortu- 
nate wretch may be, rely upon it you have "not made Gyi^sy Meg, as she 
is called, a prisoner ! Examine her features and you will discover that 
I am correct ! 

Mike. Oh ! blessed hour ! Did you ever hear the like of that ? Why, 
look at her ould gray cloak and red handkercher, sir ! Sure, there's no 
mistakin' her ! But maybe, afther all, you're sayin' no more then the 
thruth ! 

Dick. I'll hold her, Mike, while you take a peep at her. {Seizes the 
2jrisoner by the arms., and pinions them with his own. ) 

Mike. Come, young woman, as I hope you'll turn out to bedurin' the 
operashun at laste, gi' me a kiss, till I see what kind of a mug you've 
got! {Seizes t7ie prisoner by the head., loho struggles molently to prevent 
its being raised to expose the features. ) By the powers of pewther ! 
young or ould, you are no joke any way, to puzzle Mike O'Grady in that 
style ! But I'd have you know, ma'am, that I came from a counthry that 



48 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

never was bet on a kiss any way, no matther in what other respects it 
may have failed. {Again struggles and succeeds in revealing the pris- 
oners face, into 'ichicli he fcers earnestly for a moment in the dim 
tmlight. Suddenly. ) Oh ! be the holy St. Dinnis ! Oh ! Misther 
Thravers ! Hould on to him, Dick ! Hould on to him ! Be the ghost 
of a piper ! it's Tony Lig-htfoot ! 

Travers. I am not at all surprised. I suspected it was some infam- 
ous agent of that dastardly criminal whose career is about terminated. 

Dick. Well, dash my buttons ! if you beant in for it this time, Master 
Lightfoot! Let's bind'n with the snares and whipcord, Mike, before 
we take'n to the White Hart, where he'll be safe enough till he's under 
bolts and bars in the village ! 

Mike. Sartinly, Dick ! as a timperary ofl&cer of jistice I'll help you 
to spanshel, me boy, and slip a snare over his head too, that "I can 
dhraw at leisure if he attimpts to cut up any capers ! {They hind him 
firmly^ while he struggles violently to get out of their dutches.) 

Travers. As he now seems perfectly secured, my friends, let us 
move towards the White Hart, where I shall look to this scratch of 
mine, while some one proceeds for Mr. Lester, who is the only magis- 
trate close at hand. 

Tony. {Finding escape noio imjwssible.) I'll confess all, Mr. Travers, 
if you let me go ! 

Travers. A full confession may lighten your punishment — may save 
your life ! but it will never restore you to liberty ! 

Tony. Then I shall reveal all, this very night ; and if I swing, my 
dear, kind, good master, who got me in this scrape, and others quite as 
bad, shall swing with me ! 

Travers. Are you ready, friends ? 

Mike. Li rale marchin' ordher, sir ! Dick, the shoes ! 

Dick. Yes, Mr. Travers, we be ready. (Gets the shoes, etc.) 

Travers. Then, let us move. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV. — Apartment in the Manor. Enter Sir Reginald in a state 
of intense excitement. 

Sir Reg. {Pacing up and doion.) Fiends and furies! This is 
dangerous ! Lightfoot in jail on a charge of attempt to murder ! 
Curse the idiot, and his bit of a flesh-wound ! Why didn't he send the 

knife home, as in the case of (Pauses.) Well, it will all come right ! 

He will keep his mouth shut ; for he knows that I alone can help him 
now, and that, before the day closes, I shall be possessed of wealth 
enough to force his prison doors, if necessary, and set him at liberty ! 
But should he peach ! G-ood God ! I must shut out that idea, and look 
to my coming triumph ! There has been plotting against me ! Lester 
and that Harley have been riding among some of my principal tenants, 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 49 

and, no doubt, prejudicing- tliem against me regarding that Alice case; 
while this infernal affair will, of course, be laid pretty near my door 
by them also ! I observe, in addition, that, within the last day or 
two, some strange influence has been working against me in the village, 
as many of the inhabitants who were previously polite at least, now 
turn their heads away when they see me. Ay, and even that Waters, 
whom, old as she is, I shall bundle out bag- and baggage this afternoon 
with the rest of them, avoids me altogether of late ! But what care I 
for any of them ? The hour of my triumph is at hand, when I shall 
crush every one of them ! I wish my messenger had been allowed to 
see Lightfoot this morning ; but no matter. He knows on what side 
his bread is buttered ! In the meantime I shall crush them one and 
all ! Every soul under this roof shall be turned out of doors ! The 
Mortimers shall be sent adrift without a shilling in their pocket, or even 
a hut that they can call their own to shelter them, while they can do 
nothing in that London affair, as I simply happened to drop in on Miss 
Alice in one of her haunts, for all I was to know ! That feUow, Capon, 
goes too. Yes, goes — goes with the rest of them ! But Lester is sole 
master here until noon, when, I learn, he will call upon me to come 
forward and relieve him of his trust. Five minutes after the hour, 
ay, one second, his power ceases ; and I shall be close at hand to cut 
him short in whatever observations he may be making for the edifica- 
tion of his special friends who are to assemble at eleven. But I must 
now away and take another glance at that speech I have to make ; for 
the hour draws near ! But, fiends and furies ! Lightfoot ! Lightfoot ! 

[JSxit. 

Scene V. — In front of the Wdte Hart. Capon, Dick, Mike, and others 
in a state of joyous excitement. 

Mike. {&iaJcing hands with everybody^ Oh ! be the mortial ! I'U go out 
of my siven sinses ! Tony has tould everythin ! Aye, and sworn to it ! 
And, what's more, it's all found out to be thrue ! The millaynium is 
comin' ! The millaynium his comin' ! Hurroo! Hurroosh ! (8ings.) 

Song. 

One evenin', for divarshun sake, as I roamed out a-ga-lone, 

I harde a-ga f aymale lady bright o-ga ! makin' her pittish moan. 

She wrung her hair and tore her hands, and to herself did cry, 

O-ga ! Jonny-ga jewel don't murther me or else I'll surely-ga die ! 

{Turning to Dick.) 

Fella me that in John's Lane, yer sowl ya ! There's music for you, or 
I'm no botanist ! Oh ! Dick, alannah ! {Extending his hand) lave it 
here. {They shake hands.) I'm in sich humor, that I could almost lay 
you dead at me feet ! 

Dick. ( While Capon and others gesticulate in the background.) Mike, 
I be almost crazy 1 Beant it a mericle ? 
3 



50 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

Mike. A mericle is it, you say ! A mericle's only a child to it ! He 
lias done enough to hang, thransport, dhravr and quarther him, and is 
sure to spind the night wid Tony ; for Misther Lesther sez there's a 
-whole ridgniint of "svarrants aginst him, although he doesn't suspict a 
haporth about it. and vrill only be let into the saycret whin the darbies 
are slipped on him by the two constables ! And besides, his London 
. bewty is in jail by this time, too ! 

^ Dick. Ay, sure, and the whole on us, includin' Mr. Travers and his 
sweet wife, will all be there to hear Mr. Lester gid it to'n afore he is 
arrested. But then. Mike, he'll be so rich now that he'll be able to buy 
hisself off, no matter what he does I 

Mike. I know, avick, that money can do a good dale ; but its purty 
hard to rub out blood wid anythin', as I know well ; for whin a boy of 
the Cumminses. in the County Tipperary, now minny a year ago, offered 
thirty shillin's to a widda of the name of Mahar, for the murther of her 
son Tady, she threw it in his face, and tould him to keep it, if that was 
all he could do ! 

Dick. I suppose Master Capon has told ee that Suky and me is a 
goin' under the one name ptirty soom 

Mike. {With an air of mdnndidy.) Yis, Dick, he totdd me all about 
it But I never like to spake of sich things now, bekase it brings back 
that Limerick girl to me, and the blaggard that bamboozled me out of 
her ; may bad luck to him every day he sees a pavin' stone ! 

(Capon admnces to Mike and Dick, ic?dle the others walk and con- 
terse in the background, sotto voce.) 

Capon. {To Dick and Mike.) I always said summat bad would come 
on him. But it's hard to say what he may now manage with a goolden 
key and lever, lads. And now if he's hanged, which he won't be, I'm 
sartin. all his fine estates will go to the King, as there beant one in the 
world as can claim em. so far as I knows on. 

Mike. Oh I then, the divil may care about the estates, so long as 
he's laid out in lavendher. But sure we needn't throuble otirselves about 
that ; for I always knew that the day he died there would be a man 
hung I 

Dick. I suspect he'll be for cutting up a main purty caper when 
they're puttin' the handcuffs on'n. But not a man, wooman, or child in 
the village or on the estates but will be glad to get rid on'n, he has 
been such a cruel bad un ! 

Mike. Well, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good ; for there will 
be the greatest atin' and dhrinkin' over there that ever was seen in the 
world, wid which he won't be able to intherf are ; and I'll tell yez both 
what, that so rejoiced am I wid the way he'll be hobbled, that I'll be 
carr'ed home this blessed night, although the likes hasn't happened to me 
since I once took a consolashun thrip to Ballinasloe Fair, whin I lost that 
Limerick girl, whose sweet face, afther all, is wid me yet whin my eyes 
are shut ! Ah I Dick, mavoumeen, and you Misther Capon, yez may say 



ST.ART.Y A TRAGEDY. 51 

what yez Kke, bat whin the heart of a poor boy gets a kick, wid 
mania' in it, from the fat of the girl he lores, if s nerer tiie same 8h^>e 
aftherward3. 

From those Hi the Backgeoi31>. Three cheers for Master Cxpaa. 
( Tfi.ey di.ef:r^ Dick and Mike joining. ) 

Capos^. iMf/Kfi.d and ^ratifi^.d.) Thank ee, lads and lanes! Thank 
ee from my heart I For I suppose it will be a long day afore yoa and 
me meet at the White Hart again ; altiboiig^ arter all, I beant out on 
it yet! 

Dick. Ay, and three cheers for Mx. Mortimer, Mks AUce, Mr. Tra- 
▼ers, and the Doctor. (AU ehur.) 

Mike. Tis. begorra! and three dieersf<n- Gypsy M^. that se^ns to be 
betther srofE than any of us took her to be, af^r all ! ( They <Juer OQom.) 

Capon, yow, lads,, it's not far from eleren o'clock ; so let as maketiie 
best of oar way to the Manor, and see tibe aid of this main cozioiis 
Gome, lads and lasses. Gome, along ! It's dose by. 

\ETA:>int.. Mtke mfering off tAe itag^ 



Scexe VL — T?ie yfanr/r. The fioU door r/pen. Lesteb, itUhpapen in Ms 
hand, addre^ng frr/m the ^teps a n^imber of hxited vSUigen and 
UnanU on the lawn. Ladiea and ger^tlernen each sside of Am <m fkc 
haky/ny^ ufiere Mobtisceb, Alice, in a Tughtg nerwas ttaU, Tba-^ 
TEBS and the DocroB sf.ai^ in a gro^Mp^ Ustatmg aUaitksdg. Atlke 
hoUr/ra of the fiteps. an officer ofyvstice on either sidA, watdkingkigWKne- 
menU intently. Enter Meg, Capox. ^f iK E, Dick and Su&or, eonr- 
tenndng nme and then in whi»penu Mike nun€» Jure and there oeeor- 
tif/naSy^ g&sUcvlating vher^ there's api^ue. 

LsffTEB. Tes, my friend?, as I have jost eaid, this diild, whcnn we 
an soppoeed so long dead, lives ! bat lives a aooondrel ! a f eltm ! under 
an assamed name ! The gigantic crime to whidh he had. whea two 
years old, been set as a seid, woold hare been brought to light loi^ago, 
had not one of the pCTsons cognizant of it — Gyp^y Meg, ex rat&er - 
Xancy ETam, who stands there disguised amcmg yoa (pointing to Xa!« CY, 
wfto ha^juMskaten hands with Cj^po^^; — been soddenlj seized, at the 
time of its occorrenoe, as an Frf>glTah spy, and boried far jeaa in ti^e 
depths of a French prison, from wiiicfa ahe has been bat reoentty art 
free. Sarah Waters— -tiie other person aware of ths heilidi ^oi— de- 
poses she also would have revealed it loi^ s^o, had she not beiiered 
that a murder had been committed in coaxnectian with it, winch was 
calcalated to jeo{)ardize her own safety. When, however, it was de- 
monstzated lately to her by Xancy Evans, that, through her iute r ven - 
tion, no Uood had been spilled, she disclosed the whole affair ; corro- 
borating erezy syllable uttered by Nancy, whran some of yoa wiU 



53 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

remember as the foster-sister of the late Lady Howard, and substan- 
tiating', as does the sworn deposition of Nancy also, the dying disclosure 
of a gentleman of the highest character and respectability, who, not 
long since, departed this life a short distance from the city ; so that the 
identity and history of this person, and, I may add, his crimes also, 
have now been established before the proper authorities, beyond a 
shadow of doubt ! 

{Here the clock in the turret strikis the hour of noon. On the sound 
of the last stroke^ Sir Reginald, with a vicious leer of triumph., 
appears in the door-way., but icitlwut receiving the slightest recogni- 
tion from those on the balcony beside him., or from any one present. 
Stung by the terrible slight^ a fierce scowl settles on his brow., and he 
disposes himself to listen for a moment to the thread of Lester's 
remarks^ who has paused, but who continues after the clock has 
ceased. ) 
But, kind friends, the hour I perceive has now arrived when it be- 
comes my duty to call upon Sir Reginald Howard to come forward and 
relieve me of what you all know to have been a most painful trust. Be- 
fore doing so, however, I shall make a few observations relative to the 
manner in which I have been annoyed and embarrassed in the discharge 
my onerous duties. 

{At this point Sir Reginald steps forward, cutting Lester short.) 

Sir Reg. {Superciliously and authoritatively .) I believe, sir, I am now, 

^ at last, lord and master here ! Hand me those papers ! {Extending his 

' hand. ) We shall dispense with your explanations, as we shall with your 

company, as well as with that of your particular friends also ! The 

papers ! ( Great commotion and covert hissing and hooting on the lawn. ) 

Lester. {Eyeing him for a moment., and thrusting him back a step, 
coolly.) Don't anticipate ! Allow me to continue for a few moments ! 
Sir Reg. {Recovering himself and returning to the charge furiously.) 
Them papers, I say ! Hand me them papers ! You shall have no op- 
portunity of traducing my character on my own door-steps, or of pre- 
judicing the minds of these people in your favor, untU you have iirst 
rendered an account of your somewhat suspicious stewardship to me ! 

Lester. {Composedly.) That can be rendered on the spot, and in 
the presence of all assembled, so far as I now have to deal with you. 

{Increasing excitement on the laicn. ) 
Sir Reg. {Stepping closer., and loith wild vehemence.) Them papers ! 
{Stretches out his hand again. ) Hand me them papers, I say ! 

Lester. {Calm and collected.) Well, then, as you are so very 
anxious to clutch these documents, you shall have the full benefit of 
them at once ! They are, as you will perceive, four in number {counts 
ihem) ; but these two {selecting them and motioning to the officers of jus- 
tice., who ascend the steps to where he stands) wOl be quite sufficient for 
the present ! This one {handing it to one of the officers) is a war- 
rant for the arrest of Frederick Mansfield, for conspiracy against the 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 53 

life of Sir Reginald Howard, resulting in an assault with intent to kill ! 
This {presenting the other paper to the second officer) has been granted 
against the same villain, for feloniously betraying into a certain — {here 
Sir Reginald again interrupts him violently^ hut with some symptoms of 
vague and increasing alarm.) 

Sir Reg. {Noid stands beside Mm and the two officers.) What's all 
this mummery about ? No one has assaulted me ! No one has at- 
* tempted my life ! although there are some who are bad enough to do 
it ! Come, sir, no more of this I It is with Sir Reginald Howard you 
have to deal at the present moment, and not with this Frederick Mans- 
field, whoever he may be 1 

Lester, In that you are mistaken, for I shall deal with the villain 
Mansfield, first, who, when a child, had been substituted, in France, by 
his vile mother, for the true heir to these estates, and who now stands 
before this assemblage in your abhorred and infamous person ! (Excite- 
ment in the balc&ny and the wildest commotion and demonstrations of joy 
on the lawn. Mike shaking hands with every one about him., while., on a 
signal from Lester, the two officers seize Mansfield and handcuff him., 
before he has recovered from his hm'ror and surprise.) 

Mansfield. (Suddenly realizing his situation, and struggling vio- 
lently to extricate himself from the hands of the officers. ) A conspiracy ! 
A conspiracy to deprive me of my lawful heritage. (Lester ascends to 
the balcony and ichispers to the Doctor. ) 

Mike. {8ympathizingly , in a humorous attitude.) Ah! then, blur an 
turf ! What are you raisin' sich ructions for, Misther Mansfield ? Take 
it aisy, man ! take it aisy ! Sure, afther all, you were only changed at 
nurse ! — a thing that happens nearly every day wid us over there in 
Ireland ! {Merriment and laughter.) 

Mansp. {Again suddenly hjorr or -stricken. Aside. ) Great God ! ' ' Mans- 
field ! " " Mansfield ! " This, then, is the secret with which Waters has 
so often threatened me ; but which I had long believed to be a mere 
groundless and selfish ruse on her part, for the purpose of keeping her 
purse well filled ! {Is led up the steps by the officers to the doorway of the 
Manor, where, with an officer on each side of him, he stands once more, 
while Lester descends the steps again, amid cheers and joyful exclama- 
tions. ) 

Lester. {Restoring silence and order with a wave of his hand.) There 
is neither conspiracy nor falsehood about it, my friends ! You can all 
satisfy yourselves, both here or on application to the proper authorities 
in the city, that the person who has been just handcuffed in your pre- 
sence as a felon — and who with his accomplice Tony Lightfoot, now 
in prison, has been guilty of offences the most criminal and heinous — has 
usurped or assumed the name and rank of the true heir to these estates 
for upwards of twenty years ! whom the unprincipled mother of this 
wretch fancied she had consigned securely to an early and bloody 
grave. But, through the benign interposition of a merciful Providence, 



54 NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 

and the undying love and fidelity of Ms old nurse Nancy Evans, he lives, 
and stands on English soil to-day ! — a fact established upon the broadest 
possible basis, and which can be substantiated, to a singular extent, by 
even your old friend, Dr. Harley himself. {Turning to the Doctor.) 
{Cheers, and cries of Long, live the irwe Sir Reginald ! Long live 
Nancy Evans ! Upon which, Nancy divests hersdf of her red 
head-dress and long cloak, and, throwing them over Capon's arm, 
stands attired in a modest cap and plain dress. The Doctor ad- 
vances in the meantime, and takes up a position a step or two above 
Lester, a little on &ne side.) 
Doctor. Yes, my friends, it is true ! My memory, and my diary, 
which I have posted regularly daily for the last thirty years, set forth 
that, on the same day, and when they were about seventeen or eighteen 
months old, I vaccinated two children. One was Reginald, the only child 
of the late Sir Arthur and Lady Howard — the other, the son of a Widow 
Mansfield, to whose guardianship young Howard was entrusted after 
her ladyship's death, Sir Arthur having died 'previously, I performed 
the operation, if I may so term it, on the upper part of the arm of the 
widow's son, whose name I have entered as Frederick ; but, to gratify 
a whim of Lady Howard, who did not wish to have any mark in sight 
on the fair round limb of her little darling, I applied the infection to 
the under part of his arm, the cicatrice resulting from which I have re- 
cently found, in this latter place, on the person of the true Sir Reginald ; 
while I have been enabled to ascertain that the mark resulting from vac- 
cination is clearly visible on the upper part of the arm of the prisoner, 
although the under is totally free from any traces of the sort ! 

(Mansfield with muttered imprecations still stands in the doorway 

glaring about him like a chained hyena, while the Doctor rejoins 

his party.) 

Capon. {Turning to 'Na^cy.) I always said he looked no more like 

Sir Arthur or my lady than I be ; and, besides, I never could help thinkin' 

as summat bad would come on him. 

Nancy. You are right, old friend ! There is not even the most re- 
mote resemblance between that man and my poor, dear master or mis- 
tress, now long iu the grave ! 

Lester. But now, kind friends, as already intimated, the time has 
fully arrived when it becomes my duty to place these large estates in the 
possession of their rightful owner, and this I shall proceed to do with 
supreme pleasure, as he and his lovely and amiable young wife are stand- 
ing amongst us at the present moment ! But, before doing so, I shall 
avail myself of the high honor and profound gratification of presenting 
them to you personally ! ( Cheers. ) 

{Ascefids the steps and approaches the group, ichere the Doctor stands 
conversing with Mr. Mortimer, Alice, and her husband. Some 
ladies and gentlemen throng around him, all speaking together, sotto 
voce; while Mansfield still stands listening und glaring about him 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 55 

ferociously: and cries of ^^Long live Mr. Lester ! " ^''Long live the 
true Sir Reginald and Lady Ho^oard,^'' ascend from those below : 
Mike being particularly lively and happy, with a handsome servant 
girl note hanging on his arm. ) 
Mike, {Approaching Dick, who stands beside Susan, and giving him 
a slap on the shoidder.) Dick ! me hayro ! The millaynium is come ! the 
millaynium is come ! Hurroo! Poor as I am this minnet, I'd give a 
hundhred pounds of me masther's money if I could only but turn a sum- 
merset like a showman ! Be the mortial, the heart will fly out of me ! 

Dick. {Eyeing Mike's conquest wit?i a knoicing smile.) I think the mil- 
lanium be come, Mike, and that the heart has flied out on you too : but 
not home to that Limerick lass you're always a talkin' about. 

Mike. {Taken a little aback.) Limerick lass ! Arrah ! what do you 
mane ! {Pauses in thought for an instant.) Oh ! sorratake you and your 
"lass," instead of "girl" — the one I refused, you mane? Well, she 
thried hard to get me ; but d'ye see, my dear mother, the heavens be 
her bed, made me take a solemn oath to her, in her last moments, that 
I'd never marry out of the family, barrin' an English girl ! 

(Capon and Nancy join them.) 
Capon. This is a wonderful day, lads and lasses ! and Ned Capon has 
lived to see it ; and beant out of the White Hart yet ! 

Dick. It is a wonderful day. Master Capon, and none on us at the 
Hermitage be in much danger of goin' out either, whoever the new Sir 
Reginald and lady may be ! 

Susan. I think you're right, Dick ; and if you are, you'll have a few 
more opportunities of taking down that heavy Columbus off the mantel- 
piece for me ! 

Nancy. {Smilingly.) Yes, good friends ; but I have just learned, that, 
in a day or two, you intend to begin taking it down in partnership. 

Mike. {Turning to his coy acquaintance., lovingly.) D'ye hear that, 
asthore ! and the soft heart within me, like a lump of fresh butther 
waitin' for the prent ! 

Lester now takes Travers and Alice by the hand, standing 
between them, and, followed by Mortimer and the Doctor, 
commences to descend from the balcony, Mansfield, perceiving 
how terrible this portion of his retribution, gives a fierce shriek, 
and is hurried by the tico officers off the stage. The party from 
the balcony advance, Lester, Alice, and Travers in front., 
Mortimer, the Doctor, and Capon, on the side qf Alice, and 
Nancy, Dick, Susan, and Mike, icho has relinquished his com- 
panion, on the side of Travers. Nancy close to him. As they 
approach the foot-lights, the villagers and tenantry fall back on 
either side, with cheers and joyful cries, '■'' It^s Miss Alice!'''' 
^'- Ifs Mr. Travers!''^ '-'Long live Lady Mortimer Alice!'''' 
''^ Long live the noble Sir Reginald Travers!'" and finally, " Long 
live the true Sir Reginald and Lady Howard ! " 



56 NEABLY A TRAGEDT. 

Lester. {LooJcing ioioards the tenantry^ etc.^ and turning then^ and 
howing to the audience idth a face radiant inith sjniles.) And, now, kind 
friends on all sides, I have the unspeakable happiness of presenting to 
you, in the person of the recent poor tutor at the Grange, the true heir 
to the estates of Gray Cliff Manor, which I now formally place in his 
possession (handing him a sealed package), and with him, his noble 
and beautiful young bride ! Dear friends, Lady and Sir Reginald 
Howard ! {Iminense cheering and excitement, ichile Sir Reginald and 
Alice how to the mllagers and audience, with great cordiality and radiant 
faces. Lester and Alice nmo retire a step to one side and enter, sotto 
voce, into conversation with Capon, the Doctor, and Mortijier ; Mike, 
Dick, Susan, and Nancy, on the side of Sir Reginald, doing the 
same among themselves, Nancy icithin reach of Sir Reginald. On the 
, termination of the cheering, and just before Sir Reginald, tcho keeps his 
position, speaks ; Mike leaiis slightly forward as if to get another view of 
him and Lady Howard. ) 

Mike. {Throicing up his arms in the most blank amazement.) Oh ! 
Be all the saints in the red-letther calandher ! Is it start, starin' mad 
I am, or can I b'leeve me eyes ! {Turning to Dick.) Dick ! That set- 
tles me ! We're all changed at nurse ! 

Sir Reg. ( On quiet being restored, turning alternately to all on the 
stage and the audience.) Although for some time aware, kind friends, 
that my birth was involved in mystery, I little thought, until within 
the last few days, that I should stand before you on the present occasion, 
the acknowledged son and heir of the late Sir Arthur and Lady Howard. 
For this I am to thank a protecting Providence, and the undying love 
and fidelity of my mother's foster-sister, my old nurse, Nancy Evans 
{turns to Nancy and kisses her in the forehead), who, the day before 
she had been thrown into prison, had obtained the name and address of 
a Reverend Gentleman into whose care I had been accidentally thrown, 
and who proved a kind father to me. On her release from her long 
years of captivity, she, still true to her love and her vows, took up this 
clue, and traced me to this place, to which she naturally gravitated, 
and to which I had been led by a benign and mysterious power ! But, 
as the dear friend of my father, and the faithful guardian of these 
estates {turning to Lester and shaking hands icith him), apprised me 
this morning, that my more intimate acquaintance with you would be 
best commenced and explanations made at a banquet prepared for us 
both on the lawn and in the Manor, we shall, with the kind permission 
of those (bowing to the audience), without whose sanction the viands 
would be unsavory indeed, now retire, and close, in the midst of good 
fellowship and good cheer, this long comedy, in which all of us ap- 
pear to have played some part, and which had been so Nearly a 
Tragedy. {Iminense cheering and demonstrations of joy. ) 



NEARLY A TRAGEDY. 57 



Tableau. 



Sir Beg. and Lady H. 

Nancy ^ Mort. , 

Sus.^ Doc.^ 

Dick^ Lester, 

Mike, Cap. 

Curtain Fall^ 



THE END. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





III Hill mil 

014 211 927 4 f 



